


Turn Away and Tell me What You See

by isTrash



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Cancer, Character Death, Death, Depressing, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Leukemia, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-04 19:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14027316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isTrash/pseuds/isTrash
Summary: Cancer ran in the Heere family.It was a matter of time when Jeremy started to see the symptoms.*Or; the one with terminal illness ripping out all of our hearts.





	Turn Away and Tell me What You See

**Author's Note:**

> yes, before anyone says anything, this story was greatly inspired by My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade album which is centered around a lonely man dying of cancer. pretty dark but idk.
> 
> sorry for delay but my beta reader took forever getting back to me and they finally just sent it back, so apparently, everything's fine now, so, enjoy ~
> 
> EDIT: hello! yes it is me! i've just found out (after a hard night of editing this) that it is TERRIBLY depressing to immerse yourself in this song before or after you read this. here is the link and i'll have the link added down below. [xxx](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wc2s9skF_58)

Cancer ran in the Heere family.

  
  
It was a matter of time when Jeremy started to see the symptoms.

  
  
It was almost June. School had just let out a week ago, and you could find Jeremy sitting in Michael's PT Cruiser in the Target parking lot observing his many bruises he had no recollection of getting.

 

"Dude, you're like a banana," Michael teased.

 

Jeremy rolled his eyes in Michael's direction. "Nah, I'm more of an apple," Jeremy replied, rubbing a bruise.

  
  
He'd been getting bruised a lot easier, recently.

  
  
Actually, his health seemed to hit rock bottom since the whole SQUIP thing happened. He'd gotten more nosebleeds since the time between the SQUIPcident and now than he'd ever had, and got sick so frequently, he almost missed the last month of school.

  
  
People had started to point out that he seemed a lot thinner than he already was, so if people thought he was a twig before, he sure was now.

  
  
Jeremy stared at the bruises for a few more seconds before shrugging.

  
  
"I dunno what the hell I did, but they're all over me, dude," said Jeremy, looking over to Michael.

  
  
Michael grinned. "Have you fallen down the stairs again, Jer?"

  
  
Jeremy laughed. "No, for your information, I have not," Jeremy said, giving Michael a weak punch on the arm. "Now, let's go get all the shit we need for movie night tonight."

  
  
"Yes sir, player two."

  
  
After getting all that they needed from Target for movie night with the SQUIP squad (popcorn, and all sorts of sugary shit), Jeremy and Michael head back out to the blistering hot outside world, and placed everything in the back of Michael's PT Cruiser.

  
  
They got in the car, buckled their seatbelts, and Michael started the car.

  
  
Jeremy didn't know what all happened next, but all of a sudden, he found himself in his driveway, getting shaken awake by Michael.

  
  
"Jere, are you okay?" asked Michael, concern shining in his eyes.

  
  
"Uh- wait what? Michael, what are you talking about?" Jeremy furrowed his brow.

  
  
"Dude, I turned to talk to you about a video game, and I saw you passed out in your seat!" Michael exclaimed. "Did you have a heat stroke or somethin'?"

  
  
Jeremy didn't even remember falling asleep. Jeremy just decided to keep quiet.

  
  
Michael sighed. "Forget it, it's fine, Jere," He muttered, and opened his car door, and got out of the car.

  
  
"Hey, Jeremy, can you help get all this out the back?"

  
  
"Oh, uh, yeah," Jeremy said, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the car to help.

  
  
Once the two teenagers got everything inside, Jeremy felt fatigued. He walked into his kitchen to get a glass of water, but stopped halfway, a dizzy spell coming over him. He wasn't very fazed, mainly because it'd been happening a lot lately.

  
  
So he continued, and grabbed a glass from a cabinet and pouring tap water into the glass. He drank it deeply, satisfied when he finished the glass. He left it on the counter, planning on taking care of it later.

  
  
Stretching, Jeremy set off to find Michael.

  
  
It didn't take very long, since Michael was standing at the end of the hallway at the closet containing all the blankets Jeremy had (they couldn't find good blankets at target).

  
  
Jeremy walked up to Michael, standing behind him; he was currently observing a Mickey Mouse blanket.

  
  
"Oh, I like that one, it's soft," Jeremy said.

  
  
Michael jumped, accidentally dropping the stack of blankets he'd gathered on the ground in surprise when he turned around.

  
  
"Gah!" Michael yelped. "Fuck, dude, what the hell! You scared the shit out of me! Fuck you!" Michael exclaimed over Jeremy's laughter.

  
  
Wiping a tear from his eyes, Jeremy cracked a smile, "Oh Mikey, you don't mean that," Jeremy pouted playfully. "You know you love me."

  
  
For a second there, Michael seemed to blush. But it must've been a trick of the light because Michael smirked and said, "I'm questioning that right now."

  
  
Jeremy pretended to be offended. "Excuse me! How could anyone not love this."

  
  
"By being around you for twelve years," Michael grinned. "Now come on, help me pick up all your blankets that you made me drop," Michael added, and squatted down to the floor to pick up the blankets he'd dropped and Jeremy did as told.

  
  
They carried the stack to the couches that sat in front of the Tv (aka, where the squad was going to be laid out in front of for the next nine hours) and Michael went to go get the snacks while Jeremy situated the blankets.

  
  
The squad decided on spending this week's movie night at Jeremy's house, since Mr. Heere had to go on a business trip out of town, and wouldn't be back for a few days.

  
  
So while Jeremy made a burrow of blankets for Rich and Christine (that was how they liked it), Michael came back into the living room and placed the snacks on the coffee table in front of the couch and started looking through the movies Jeremy owned.

  
  
Michael looked through the collection of movies.

  
  
"Rent?" Michael finally suggested, looking up from the DVD he picked up.

  
  
"Uhm... pass. Too depressing," Jeremy said.

  
  
"Newsies?"

  
  
"We've seen that at least ten times."

  
  
"Hunger Games?"

  
  
"Too gory."

  
  
"The Matrix-?"

  
  
"Nope!" Jeremy said hastily.

  
  
"Harry Potter?" Michael asked exasperated.

  
  
"Uh... which one?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Chamber of Secrets."

  
  
"Blegh, pass. No one likes CoS."

  
  
"Dude, fucking pick something!" Michael cursed after another five minutes of searching for a movie to watch.

  
  
"Fine, fine!" Jeremy exclaimed. "Do you see Heathers in there?"

  
  
Michael looked through the DVDs for a second until he found it.

  
  
"It's empty," Michael said.

  
  
Jeremy face palmed. "Dammit, I left it upstairs. Hold on, I'll go get it."

  
  
So Jeremy left the couch and started walking upstairs.

  
  
By the time he had gotten upstairs, he was panting, completely out of breath, and dizzy.

  
  
He waited it out for a second, leaning against the wall and taking deep breaths.

  
  
Once Jeremy had recovered from his dizzy spell, he entered his room, and quickly found what he needed and made his way back downstairs.

  
  
"Found it!" Jeremy said, raising the disk in the air like a trophy.

  
  
"Cool," Michael said from across the room. He had his phone out and tapping it furiously, leading Jeremy to think he was texting their friends, asking when they'd come over.

  
  
Jeremy decided he'd go and take care of the glass he'd left on the counter earlier and put it in the dishwasher (after all, he was a functional human being).

  
  
Once he'd finished with taking care of the glass, he strode over to the couch and grabbed the remote and turned the Tv on, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and started watching an episode of Steven Universe.

  
  
"Dude, when're they gonna get here?" Jeremy asked after an episode of Steven Universe ended.

  
  
"In like thirty minutes."

  
  
Jeremy hummed, and tuned the current commercial out, and started realizing how tired he was...

  
  
About thirty minutes later, Jeremy woke up to the doorbell ringing.

  
  
Jeremy got off the couch, feeling sore, and went to open the door.

  
  
He opened the door, and smiled when he saw Christine standing there.

  
  
"Christine! Hey!"

  
  
"Jeremy!" Christine smiled. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

  
  
"We literally saw each other Wednesday," Jeremy laughed.

  
  
"Well that doesn't mean I didn't miss you!"

  
  
Jeremy shook his head, grinning.

  
  
"Well come in, I made you a blanket burrow."

  
  
Christine squealed and entered the house, trotting over to the couch with the excitement of a toddler.

  
  
Jeremy, amused, started to go and look for Michael to tell him Christine arrived when the doorbell rang again.

  
  
Sighing, Jeremy went over to answer the door again.

 

* * *

 

  
  
When everyone had gotten there, and it was well into Heathers, Jeremy suddenly had to pee.

  
  
So as quietly as he could, he got up from his spot on the couch and tried not to disrupt anyone from watching the movie.

 

  
When he got to the bathroom, he quickly got his business done, and washed his hands.

 

  
Drying his hands off, his eyes glanced to the weight scale.

 

 

He'd heard he'd seemed to have lost weight. Maybe he'd just check it out...

 

  
52.03

 

  
Jeremy's jaw fell open.

 

  
"Jesus Christ..."

 

  
Jeremy stepped off the scale, turned it off and exited his bathroom.

 

  
All this just didn't seem to add up.

 

  
With all the bruises, nosebleeds and fatigue, it seemed justified to be called the flu.

 

  
But with bruises, nosebleeds, fatigue, dizziness, loss of appetite, and weight loss, when Jeremy looked at it, it seemed like something more significant than a simple case of the flu.

 

  
Jeremy had to look into this.

 

* * *

 

  
  
The day after the movie night meet, Jeremy was hit with a particular nasty fever.

 

  
Michael offered to stay over and help him but Jeremy declined, not wanting to get Michael sick.

 

  
Michael, extremely hesitant, relented, but declared he would come back and check on him.

 

  
Jeremy found it rather touching that Michael cared so much to come over and keep him company while he was moping around, being sick.

 

  
But another reason Jeremy didn't voice about Michael not staying over as Jeremy's caretaker, was so he could research sicknesses that matched his symptoms in peace (because who can't trust Google?).

 

  
So Jeremy, sprawled out on the couch, was researching symptoms when he came across an alarming find.

 

  
He'd typed in:

 

  
weight loss nosebleeds bruising dizziness fatigue and fevers

  
  
The first result for those symptoms were:

 

  
Sinusitis

 

  
Symptoms include headache, facial pain, runny nose, and nasal congestion.

 

  
Symptoms may include

 

  
* Fatigue  
* Fever  
* Dizziness

  
Very common

  
  
Jeremy didn't really think that one suited his conditions. He skipped over that one.

  
  
Flu

  
  
Symptoms include fever, chills, muscle aches, cough, congestion, runny nose, headaches, and fatigue.

  
  
Symptoms may include

  
  
* Fatigue  
* Fever  
* Bleeding

 

  
Very common

  
  
Jeremy ignored that one, rolling his eyes.

  
  
He went to the next one:

  
  
Leukemia

  
  
Jeremy froze. His eyes widened.

  
  
Leukemia

  
  
Many patients with slow growing types of leukemias don't have symptoms. Rapidly growing types of leukemia m... more

  
  
Symptoms may include

  
  
* Nosebleed  
* Bleeding  
* Fatigue

  
Rare

  
  
Jeremy clicked on the 'more', feeling his heart pound rapidly in his chest as he waited for the page to load.

  
  
Leukemia is cancer of blood-forming tissues, including bone marrow. Many types exist such as acute lymphoblastic leukemia, acute myeloid leukemia, and chronic lymphocytic leukemia.

  
  
Many patients with slow-growing types of leukemias don't have symptoms. Rapidly growing types of leukemia may cause symptoms that include fatigue, weight loss, frequent infections, and easy bleeding or bruising.

  
  
Treatment is highly variable. For slow-growing leukemias, treatment may include monitoring. For aggressive leukemias, treatment includes chemotherapy that's sometimes followed by radiation and stem-cell transplant.

  
  
As if he just ran a marathon, his heart was pounding against his ribs. He clicked on the symptoms page.

  
  
Requires a medical diagnosis

  
  
People may experience:

  
  
Pain areas: in the bones or joints

  
  
Whole body: dizziness, fatigue, fever, loss of appetite, or weakness

  
  
Also common: bleeding, easy bruising, frequent infections, mouth ulcer, nosebleed, pallor, red spots on skin, shortness of breath, swollen lymph nodes, or unintentional weight loss

  
  
In a blind panic, he closed the page and he's greeted with his familiar screen background.

  
  
He shuts his laptop closed, pulling out his phone and automatically tapping on his most recently used contact.

  
  
Presence: hey dude wanna go somewhere or something??

  
  
He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

  
  
mikewazowski: yeah sure whats wrong???

  
  
Presence: idk just kinda lonely.

  
  
mikewazowski: i can just come over to ur place

  
  
Presence: nah i kinda just need some fresh air.

  
  
mikewazowski: o kk brt

  
  
Presence: thx.

  
  
After about five minutes, Michael was honking in the Heere's driveway.

  
  
Jeremy locked the door, walked outside and over to Michael's car and opened the shotgun door. He slid into the car and buckled his seatbelt.

  
  
Michael wordlessly started the car, and pulled out of the driveway, pushing play on a playlist to fill the silence up with Bob Marley's voice.

  
  
The two boys rode in silence, Jeremy staring out the window at passing objects, and Michael focused on driving.

  
  
"Thanks," Jeremy finally said, not looking away from the window.

  
  
Michael took Jeremy's hand and squeezed it.

  
  
"Anytime."

 

* * *

 

  
  
As soon as Mr. Heere got back from his trip, Jeremy suggested he go back to the doctor again.

  
  
"Already? But you just went a month ago," Mr. Heere said, checking Jeremy's temperature.

  
  
Jeremy shrugged, looking at his hands.

  
  
"Well you sure are running a temperature," Mr. Heere observed from looking at the thermometer.

  
  
"Alright, well I'll go book an appointment with Dr. Drew."

  
  
Jeremy nodded, burrowing back in his blankets.

  
  
He couldn't explain it, but he'd been feeling depressed ever since he saw that all his symptoms matched up with cancer, something he knew his dad's side of the family had passed down through the generations. So him having cancer would be a very possible case-scenario.

 

Jeremy rolled over in his bed, trying to rid that topic from his mind. He cuddled a pillow for awhile, on the border of sleep all until his phone buzzed.

 

  
Groaning, Jeremy rolled back over and grabbed his phone off his nightstand.

  
  
He turned his phone on and saw he had a text.

  
  
BrookieCookie: hey jeremy !!

  
  
Jeremy questioned whether he should answer.

  
  
Presence: hey brooke.

  
  
He did.

  
  
BrookieCookie: do u wanna come to pinkberry w/ me and evryone ?

  
  
Jeremy sighed. Why not? It'd be nice to get out of the house.

  
  
Presence: sure why not.

  
  
BrookieCookie: yay !!

  
  
Jeremy couldn't help but smile. He loved that he made Brooke so happy from him just being somewhere. But it always made him guilty in a sense. He'd broken her heart, but yet she still glowed when he entered the room.

  
  
Jeremy, with reluctance, rolled out of bed and grabbed a random shirt from off his floor. He slipped the shirt over his bare chest and took his sweatpants off. He got his jeans and slid into them.

  
  
He checked his pockets for his house keys and phone, and once everything was to his satisfaction, he shouted his dad a goodbye and walked out the door.

  
  
Jeremy decided to walk because why not? It wasn't a very hot day, surprisingly, so he felt It'd be nice to walk since he didn't live too far from Pinkberry.

  
  
But Jeremy soon regret his decision to walk. You see, when Jeremy walked, nothing distracted him from his thoughts. Sure, sometimes he'd try counting his step pattern but that only lasted a little before he'd get bored and go back to his thoughts.

  
  
And it wasn't always a bad thing. Sometimes he'd think of something random and ponder over it. But if it had been on his mind for a while he'd go over that shit like it was nothing.

  
  
So the first thing that popped into his mind- him having cancer.

  
  
If he did have cancer, he probably would've noticed the symptoms before now. But then again symptoms don't show up at first. But he would've been tested right? What type of cancer did his family have anyway? Lung, heart, leukemia? Jeremy didn't know.

  
  
Before he even knew it, he was in the parking lot of Pinkberry.

  
  
He took a deep breath, and put his best smile on his face and walked into the building.

  
  
"Jeremy!"

  
  
Rich was the first to spot him walking in. Everyone turned in their seats to face him.

  
  
Michael turned around and smiled.

  
  
Jeremy felt a fluttery feeling in his chest.

  
  
Yeah, Jeremy thought. Everything will be okay.

  
  
It always was, right?

 

* * *

 

Jeremy rode the bus to the doctors. The ride was silent for him, the chatter of riders talking filling his ears while he stared out the window, left alone for the most part.

 

  
When it was finally Jeremy's stop, Jeremy stood up in the aisle, his legs shaking and fingers numb.

  
  
Swallowing thickly, Jeremy went inside and took the elevator to the fourth floor. The elevator spat him out with an anxious mom and her crying and shouting son and he trudged to the front desk, like a man heading to war.

  
  
The bored receptionist was painting her nails with dark red nail polish and was smacking her chewing gum every few minutes.

  
  
"Hello ma'am," Jeremy said quietly, leaning over the desk. "I'm here for an appointment with Doctor Drew."

  
  
The woman tapped her finger on the paper in front of him. "Sign your name and take a seat. He'll be with you in just a mo'," she droned.

  
  
Jeremy scribbled his name and the date on the line and sat down in a lone chair.

  
  
The room was brightly lit and very full of color. Many children were playing with the toys in the corner, or sitting quietly in their parent's laps. Jeremy played with the hem of his shirt as he waited, unwilling to pick up one of the flashy magazines next to him and not thinking to pull out his phone. He swallowed nervously and eyed the door.

  
  
After what seemed like decades, a nurse came to the door and called out his name. Jeremy, flattening his hair all the while, darted past her, and waited until she shut the door. The older woman walked slowly and led him to a weighing scale.

  
  
"Remove your shoes first," she reminded in a stern tone. Jeremy untied his shoes and climbed up, feeling the slight movement of the pressure pad beneath his feet as he stood there. She moved the dials along the bridge almost too fast for him to read the result but her frown as she wrote the number down was quite clear.

  
  
Their next stop was a ruler stuck to the wall. She had him turn around and stand against it, heels touching the baseboards and his shoulders back. The nurse had to flatten his hair a little to get the proper measurement; Jeremy felt a rush of pride when he looked and saw that he'd grown a little since last year.

  
  
Jeremy then followed her to an empty examination room. The nurse bustled to the side table and unceremoniously stuck a thermometer in his mouth. Jeremy hastily adjusted the grip and held it with two fingers to keep the glass stick from falling out of place. As he waited, the nurse grabbed a stethoscope and a thick cuff.

  
  
She wrapped the cuff around his bicep snugly. A tube hung off it with a rubber ball at the end. Then the cold sensation of her stethoscope pressed into the crook of his elbow. Her other hand grabbed the rubber ball on the cuff and squeezed it. As she squeezed, the cuff expanded and tightened. Soon, the pressure became painful. Just before he could let out a complaint, the damn thing was released and the cloth relaxed.

  
  
The nurse ignored him and stared intently at the dial on the cuff. Finally she removed her stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff. She wrote down a few numbers on her clipboard and then took the thermometer from Jeremy's mouth. She had to tilt the thing into the air and Jeremy couldn't tell what the reading was from his position. The nurse frowned and wrote another number down.

  
  
"Alright, that's it for now," she said abruptly. "Doctor Drew will be with you shortly." And she left him there to wait for the doctor.

  
  
Jeremy's foot tapped nervously against the floor and the sound echoed. The room was small and very stark of color or life. The doctor had one painting put up; it was of a lady drowning in a river. Jeremy swallowed through a lump in his throat. He felt flushed and sweaty, twitching with repressed energy. His clothes felt uncomfortable against his skin and he watched the clock intently.

  
  
At last the door creaked open and a bald man with dark eyes walked in. He was wearing a white coat and carried the clipboard from before. Jeremy sat up straighter and smiled weakly, although his grin probably looked more like a grimace.

  
  
"Hello Jeremy!" Dr. Drew greeted, pulling out his laptop. He listened as his fingers tapped the keys. "How long has it been since our last visit... A month?"

  
  
"Yes sir," Jeremy said. He hesitated, "I'm actually here because I don't think I have the flu," he added.

  
  
"Oh?" Dr. Drew said, raising an eyebrow. "Well let's just have a look, shall we?" He grabbed his stethoscope and nodded to Jeremy's chest. "Please remove your shirt, Jeremy."

  
  
Jeremy pulled it over his head, shivering as cool air brushed his bare chest, and set it to the side. Dr. Drew's eyebrows shot up as he saw the unsightly bruises that covered Jeremy's arms. Jeremy ducked his head and blushed in shame, but waited for the doctor to finish his exams.

  
  
"Well, your breathing and heart seems to be normal," Drew said, writing on the clipboard. He turned to Jeremy. "Your blood pressure is low, but still in the normal range. Your temperature, on the other hand, is slightly elevated. My records say that you generally have an average temperature of 96.8 degrees, and yours is currently 98.9."

  
  
Jeremy looked down at his converse and bit the bottom of his lip. What did that mean? A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see Drew right in front of him, his gloved hands reaching out to Jeremy's face.

  
  
He nearly jumped, but Drew gently placed his hands against Jeremy's neck. "I'm checking your glands to see if they are swollen," he said calmly. After a moment he stepped back, "There is some swelling there. Did you fall ill recently? Sneezing, sore throat or coughing? Have you been feeling tired? Stupid questions, I know, but I'm required to ask them."

  
  
Jeremy shook his head. "I've been more tired lately," he admitted, "and I have felt sick."

  
  
Drew nodded, writing that down. "And those bruises. How did you get them?" he asked, touching them carefully.

  
  
"I don't know, sir," Jeremy said truthfully. "I didn't notice them until a few days ago. I hadn't noticed them until then."

  
  
"Do they hurt?" Drew asked, pressing one.

  
  
"A bit, just like regular bruises do, I guess," Jeremy said, shrugging his shoulders.

  
  
Drew hummed speculatively and wrote on his chart. He looked up at Jeremy. "I'm going to have a nurse draw some blood and check it out, Jeremy," he said, setting the clipboard aside. "You've eaten today, right?" At Jeremy's nod, he smiled. "Good. Don't want you passing out on me! If you don't have any questions, I'll just have someone come by in a few minutes."

  
  
Jeremy shook his head, still stunned by this whole situation.

  
  
"Alright," Drew said. "It was good seeing you again Jeremy, disregarding the situation."

  
  
"You too," Jeremy said as Dr. Drew left.

  
  
Jeremy waited just a minute or two before the same nurse came in wheeling a small tray covered in blue gauze. Laid out on it was a long needle with a plastic piece attached to it and two glass vials. She also had a long rubber piece, a cotton swab and a brown bottle.

  
  
Jeremy scratched at his wrists anxiously, looking at the needle, and felt more flushed and sweaty as she wrapped the rubber around his arm. The cotton swab was dipped into the bottle and then the nurse wiped the crook of Jeremy's elbow with it. Jeremy cleared his throat and drew a shaky breath. He felt inexplicably nervous and terrified.

  
  
Jeremy looked away just before she stuck the needle in his arm. It stung painfully and he felt a tug as the nurse worked around his arm. The rubber was pulled off and soon she had filled her vials and removed the needle. She had Jeremy put a cotton swab on the wound and close his elbow.

  
  
Before too long, Jeremy had guaze wrapped around his arm and the vials were stored away. He felt his sore muscles relax a little more and let out a deep breath. The nurse smiled thinly at him gave him a reassuring nod.

  
  
"Go to the laboratory on the third floor to get your results tomorrow," she said.

  
  
Jeremy nodded and walked out the door, down the hall and through the door to the waiting room. He trudged to the elevator and pressed the down button.

  
  
He got in the elevator with the same mother and son he'd been with in the elevator before, the kid with a sucker in his hand and smile on his lips, and the mother looking like she would be able to sleep at night now.

  
  
Jeremy hated hospitals.

 

* * *

 

  
  
The results from Jeremy's blood test had not been good. That was all he knew.

  
  
When he went to the laboratory with his father for his results on Tuesday, the nurse there had given his dad a slip of paper and told him to go upstairs to the sixth floor and ask for Dr. Hoffman. The nurse had then shooed him and Jeremy off and sent them on their merry way.

  
  
So now, Jeremy was sitting on one of those examining beds, fucking uncomfortable as they were, waiting for Dr. Hoffman to see him.

  
  
His dad was sitting by him on the bed too. The two of them were silent.

  
  
Jeremy decided he'd send Michael a text saying he was at the doctor's while he was waiting to pass the time.

  
  
The door creaked open and said doctor walked in, absentmindedly looking at the file in her hands, muttering to herself.

  
  
Dr. Hoffman spoke, still not looking up. "My name is Dr. Angela Hoffman and I will be your child's attending doctor for the duration of our time together." At last she looked up and met Mr. Heere's eyes. "Paul Heere, correct?"

 

  
"Yes ma'am," Mr. Heere said with a nod to the woman.

  
  
"And your son, Jeremiah Heere?" She signified to Jeremy.

  
  
"Yes ma'am."

  
Everything was silent for a bit while Hoffman straightened her files.

  
  
"So," Mr. Heere began slowly. "What were Jeremy's results?"

  
  
Hoffman shook her head slightly, glancing down at the file. "Right." She placed down the file on the wooden counter by the examiner bed and rested her glasses on top of it and sat on a stool facing Jeremy. "Do you know why you are here?"

  
  
Jeremy shook his head, leaning forward slightly in curiosity.

  
  
"Your lab results came back with a high white blood cell count. Much higher than normal. Dr. Drew considered your age, the bruises, fever, the labs and the fact that you are grossly underweight, before sending you to me. All of your symptoms could indicate many possible illnesses, but the one that predominantly rings out is leukemia."

  
  
Jeremy swallowed through a lump in his dry throat. Everything seemed to start to slow down. He heard his dad spluttering beside him.

  
  
Hoffman looked reassuringly to Jeremy. "For now, this is only a guess. To make sure, I'm going to order a bone marrow test. We'll place a large needle into your hip bone to collect a sample of the cells there. If that comes out positive, then we'll get a spinal tap test to give me some more information on how to help you," she said with an even tone. "If the test proves false, then you'll probably be moved to a diagnostician, who can find out exactly what's wrong."

  
  
Mr. Heere nodded shakily and drew in a rattling breath. Jeremy barely heard it, though. He felt as though something inside him had died.

  
  
Everything after that seemed to move by in fast, swift motions. Before he knew it, he was already in the car buckling his seatbelt.

  
  
Without really comprehending what exactly he was doing he sent a brief text to Michael.

  
  
Presence: leukemia.

  
  
Presence: i have leukemia.

 

* * *

 

  
  
The morning of the testing, you could see Jeremy and Mr. Heere sitting down at the table, Jeremy picking at his waffles, his appetite gone. Mr. Heere, on the other hand, was sitting on the other side of the table facing Jeremy. He had been positive during the situation, hopeful even, but it was clear that he was nearly as anxious as Jeremy on the whole situation.

  
  
"So, champ, do you want Michael to come with us for comfort?" Mr. Heere asked, "I know he'd be more comfort than I'd be," he smiled kindly.

  
  
Jeremy shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

  
  
But if he was honest, he was grateful that his dad had offered for Michael to come with him for both emotional and physical support.

  
  
The past three days had been a struggle. Michael had raced over to Jeremy's house as soon as he read the text he received after Jeremy's diagnosis.

  
  
He'd been waiting on the porch when Jeremy and Mr. Heere had gotten back home, a blue raspberry slushie in his hand for Jeremy, and a box full of comfort items.

  
  
_Mr. Heere drove into the driveway fifteen minutes after leaving the hospital. Jeremy was looking out the window, trying to focus on what he'd just been told. Cancer. Cancer. Jeremy was going to die from fucking cancer._

_  
  
When the car came to a stop, Jeremy immediately opened the car door, and got out, slamming it closed.  
_

_  
Jeremy, ready to storm into the house, started walking to the door until he saw a blur of red running towards him._

_  
  
Spinning around on spot, he saw Michael running over to him, his arms wide open, prepared to give him the biggest hug ever._

_  
  
Michael had scooped Jeremy into his embrace, squeezing him tightly._

_  
  
Jeremy was motionless, unmoving. Michael started to release his hold, but all of a sudden Jeremy's arms wrapped around him, and he buried his face into Michael's shoulder and started crying silently, muted wails escaping him._

_  
  
"Shh, shh, Miah, shh... Miah, it's okay. It's all okay. Everything's okay," Michael had whispered in Jeremy's ear. When Jeremy had stopped his crying, Jeremy felt so tired, so drained, he leaned against Michael's chest heavily, his head rested on Michael's shoulder._

_  
  
Jeremy felt Michael pick him up, and start to carry Jeremy._

  
  
Jeremy didn't know what he'd possibly done in a past life to deserve Michael. He was an absolute angel to him when he needed him most. He honestly didn't deserve Michael. He could've befriended a person a million times better than Jeremy. But he hasn't. Yet, Jeremy thought bitterly, yet.

  
One day he'd realize that he was too good for Jeremy and move on. Move on to someone better. Someone who wasn't dying.

  
  
But until that day came, Jeremy would relish in being Michael's until he's suddenly not.

 

Which would probably happen soon.

 

* * *

 

  
  
"Mr. Heere," Hoffman said in greeting. She shook Mr. Heere's hand formally.

  
  
They had just gotten to the hospital. Michael was standing at Jeremy's side, with Jeremy throwing side glances every few seconds towards Michael. He knew Michael saw him glance at him every few seconds out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't say anything. He just grabbed Jeremy's hand soothingly.

  
  
Hoffman was telling Mr. Heere about the procedure in the infamous adult language.

  
  
"Alright, so let's get this started," Dr. Hoffman said, and opened the door to the room where everything would happen.

  
  
A few people were milling about and all sorts of instruments were set up, including a very large needle. Jeremy swallowed with an audible gulp.

  
  
Jeremy was terrified of needles.

  
  
A nurse passed him a hospital gown and told him to change. Jeremy blushed, and Michael looked away out of respect. Really, it was stupid, since both Jeremy and Michael had been naked in front of each other numerous times, much less changed clothes, but it was different this time. It was like getting naked in front of strangers in a locker room. Jeremy was soon wearing nothing but the gown and his pants. Hoffman then had him lay on his front and pull down his pants so his hips and butt were exposed.

  
  
Jeremy pillowed his red face in his arms as Dr. Hoffman felt with cold hands along the bone in his hips. Her hands moved away and he felt something cold and wet touch his skin. He bit his lip in anticipation and felt a light needle prick his skin. He let out a muffled squeak and his hand instantly flew to Michael's. He felt a stinging sensation there, but soon that area grew numb.

  
  
Hoffman moved away again and Jeremy could just sense the woman picking up the large needle. Jeremy clenched his fists and took a deep breath.

  
  
"Relax, Jeremy," Hoffman said gently. Jeremy let out his breath and tried to think about something other than the very large needle approaching his body.

  
  
A hand started combing through Jeremy's hair. "It's okay," someone was cooing, Jeremy didn't know who.

  
  
Suddenly, Jeremy felt pain flare up in his hip. He tried not to move as Hoffman continued her work. He soon felt an uncomfortable pull, a release and then another sharp pressure before the needle was taken out. Jeremy released a heavy breath in relief. Hoffman pressed a cloth on top of his wound and held it there. Jeremy let his head fall into his hands and breathed deeply.

  
  
It was over.

  
  
Jeremy grew fidgety as the minutes ticked by and was relieved when the wound was dressed.

  
  
"Alright, go ahead and get dressed, Jeremy," Hoffman said from behind him.

  
  
When he sat up and glanced over his shoulder, both doctors had their backs to him. The nurse was packaging something and Hoffman was removing her gloves and surgical gown. Jeremy took off his own gown and put on his clothes, being careful around his dressing. When he turned to look at the doctors, Hoffman was waiting for him.

  
  
"We should get the results as soon as the lab can process the marrow. Don't get the wound wet for about 24 hours. Then you may change the bandage. If it begins to swell or bleed heavily, call the hospital. If your temperature shoots up, call the hospital. Avoid heavy exercise and activity for 24 hours. You are free to leave," Dr. Hoffman smiled.

  
  
"Right," Jeremy said, hoping that his dad remembered all that. "Thanks." He offered a smile to the nurse, who returned it, and Hoffman gave him a dismissive nod. Jeremy took his cue to leave, not before reaching for Michael's hand.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Ever since the needle testing, Michael had spent the night over at the Heere's.

  
  
It was 2:37 a.m. on Wednesday, three days after the visit to the hospital. Jeremy was laid in his bed, scrolling through Tumblr while Michael was over on his beanbag doing who knows what.

  
All of the sudden, music started coming from across the room in Michael's direction. Jeremy looked over to see what Michael was doing, and saw Michael was walking over to him.  
  
  
"Michael, what the fuck are you doing?" Jeremy asked, shoving the covers off him and slid his legs off the side the bed.

  
  
Michael didn't answer, only shaking his head. Michael reached his side, and offered him a hand, smiling. "May I have this dance?"

  
  
Jeremy hesitated, eying his friend's hand being offered to him. Finally, a smile quirked at his lips.

  
  
"You may."

  
  
And Jeremy grabbed Michael's hand, getting out of bed.

  
  
Finally listening to the song, Jeremy discovered the song was Disenchanted, by My Chemical Romance. Jeremy's favorite song by them.

  
  
"Disenchanted," Jeremy said, looking into Michael's eyes as they both got into position to slow dance like they'd both been taught to in middle school. Jeremy wrapped his arms around Michael's waist.

  
  
"Yep," Michael said with a grin. "I know how much you like that one."

  
  
Jeremy smiled and gave Michael a small "Thanks," and rested his head on Michael's shoulder, listening to the lyrics. He'd never had the need to belt out song lyrics while he listened. So he was perfectly content with just resting his head on Michael's shoulder while he listened to Gerard Way's voice.

  
  
_"Well I was there on the day_  
_They sold the cause for the queen,_  
_And when the lights all went out_  
_We watched our lives on the screen_  
_I hate the ending myself,_  
_But it started with an alright scene_

  
  
_"It was the roar of the crowd_  
_That gave me heartache to sing_  
_It was a lie when they smiled_  
_And said, you won't feel a thing_  
_And as we ran from the cops_  
_We laughed so hard it would sting,"_

  
  
It took Jeremy all the way to the chorus to realize Gerard wasn't the only one singing.

  
  
_"If I'm so wrong, how can you listen all night long? Now will it matter after I'm gone? Because you never learn a goddamn thing_ ," Michael sang along to the lyrics.

  
  
Jeremy looked over to Michael singing. Michael caught his gaze, and smiled.

  
  
_"You're just a sad song with nothing to say. About a life long wait for a hospital stay. And if you think that I'm wrong, this never meant nothing to ya_ ," Michael whispered in Jeremy's ear. " _I spent my high school career spit on and shoved to agree so I could watch all my heroes sell a car on TV. Bring out the old guillotine we'll show 'em what we all mean._

  
  
" _If I'm so wrong_  
_How can you listen all night long?_  
_Now will it matter long after I'm gone?_  
_Because you never learn a goddamn thing._

  
  
" _You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya_."

  
  
Jeremy had started to sing too.

  
  
" _So go, go away, just go, run away_  
_But where did you run to, and where did you hide?_  
_Go find another way, price you pay._

  
  
" _You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya._

  
  
_"You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya._

  
  
" _At all, at all, at all, at all_."

  
  
Jeremy was looking Michael in the eyes. Michael was breathing heavily, and Jeremy felt his breath on his cheeks. Jeremy could feel Michael's heart racing against his chest, and Jeremy couldn't think that his was any different. Jeremy felt his face flush. How was it, that this position felt so right when it would’ve been dreadfully awkward with anyone else?

  
  
Finally, Michael pulled away to change the song.

  
  
Jeremy felt dazed. His stomach felt fluttery.

  
  
Was this how you were supposed to feel around a best friend?

 

* * *

 

  
  
During breakfast the next day, Mr. Heere's phone started to ring.

  
  
"Ah, the phone. Well, I'll be right back boys," Mr. Heere said.

  
  
Wiping syrup from his face with a napkin, Mr. Heere got up from the table.

  
  
Michael only shrugged and went back to the topic he was talking about.

  
  
Not five minutes later, Mr. Heere entered the kitchen. Jeremy looked up from his pancakes. His dad's face was white.

  
  
Alarm coursing through him, Jeremy asked, "Dad, what's wrong?"

  
  
Mr. Heere took a deep breath. "Uh, we're needed at the hospital," Mr. Heere said. "They said they have the results."

  
  
Jeremy felt uneasy. Michael sensed this unease, and slipped his hand under the table and took Jeremy's.

  
  
"Uh, Mr. Heere?" Michael started. "Can I come?"

  
  
Mr. Heere hesitated. "I don't see why not," he said after a minute.

  
  
Jeremy felt a bit better, but still panicked. "W-well, I'll just, uh, change out of this." Jeremy was currently wearing an old sweatshirt and sweatpants.

  
  
"I will too," Michael said, as he was also wearing his pajamas.

  
  
Mr. Heere nodded, and the two boys headed upstairs to change.

  
  
Jeremy closed his door, and sat down heavily on his bed. He felt a dip near him, and arms wrap around his neck. He instinctively leaned into the touch and smelled the familiar scent of his best friend. Slushies, weed, and flowers.

  
  
Once Michael successfully calmed Jeremy down, Michael got up and went over to Jeremy's desk. He came back a second later holding Jeremy's signature cardigan. It was only reasonable Jeremy wore it. It calmed Jeremy down in stressful situations.

  
  
So Jeremy picked up a pale blue shirt off the ground, sniffed it, and decided it didn't smell too bad, and slipped it over his chest. He wore his cardigan over it, wrapping himself in the soft cotton.

  
  
He got into his jeans, and saw Michael had been waiting for him to get ready, and got up.

  
  
"You okay now?" Michael asked.

  
  
Jeremy nodded. "Just nervous," he shrugged.

  
  
"But then," Jeremy added, "when am I not?"

 

* * *

 

  
  
Jeremy paced from the window to the door, waiting for Hoffman to arrive. Pacing helped Jeremy calm down normally, but it wasn't doing him any good today. He decided he'd sit down, and started to tap his foot.

  
  
"Dude, stop," Michael said. "It's okay. There's no need to stress. I'm sure everything's fine." Jeremy could tell he was lying just to keep Jeremy calm. Jeremy appreciated the effort, but the slight quiver in Michael’s voice was a dead giveaway.

  
  
Jeremy's hand was shaky as he ran it through his hair and he swallowed thickly, looking at the door again. A positive meant that he was dying of cancer; a negative meant that something still might be wrong. Jeremy didn't know which was worse.

  
  
The door creaked loudly and Jeremy's head shot up so fast he was surprised he didn't hurt himself. Hoffman walked in, leaving her coat by the door.

  
  
"Ah, Jeremy. You're here," Hoffman said shakily, her face drawn. She sat down at her desk. "I have the results," Hoffman said, her face looking aged.

  
  
Jeremy started to itch away at his arms and hands. That didn't sound good at all. His heart was pounding loudly against his chest; he was surprised that Hoffman couldn't hear it.

  
  
"Ma'am, what… I mean, how…" Jeremy tried to start, but he couldn't seem to form the right words.

  
  
Hoffman looked sympathetically at her patient. "The results were positive, Jeremy. You have leukemia."

  
  
Jeremy froze, his body unable to move. Positive... oh Jesus Christ... He felt something clench painfully in his chest; he couldn't breathe. Jeremy could distantly hear his dad start to cry, and Michael stuttering in shock.

  
  
Hoffman put a hand over her patient's and tried to stir him from his shock. "Jeremy? Jeremy?"

  
  
Jeremy blinked and looked at Dr. Hoffman. His shoulders fell in defeat and something was crumbling inside him. "What will I do now?" he whispered despondently.

  
  
Hoffman hand tightened over his. "Trust me," she said. "I'll start treatment right away. You're going to be alright."

  
  
Jeremy didn't say anything, until he felt arms wrap around him. He looked over his shoulder and saw his dad crying and hugging him.

  
  
Jeremy got out of his chair and started to hug his dad back.

  
  
"No, no, no, no-" Mr. Heere choked out through his sobs. "T-this can't be happening!"

  
  
Jeremy started to feel tears prickle the corners of his eyes. He didn't bother to wipe them away when they started to slide down his face.

  
  
Soon, both Jeremy and his dad were sobbing, grabbing each other in denial.

  
  
Much like the visit before last, Jeremy was whisked away from the room and into the car before he knew what was happening. Except this time, no one was bothering to hide their sadness.

  
  
When the car arrived in the driveway, Jeremy opened the car door, slammed it shut, wrenched open the front door, and ran through the house to his room, slammed the door closed, collapsing onto the door, breaking down into tears on the floor.

 

* * *

 

  
  
The next few days passed in a blur to Jeremy. If he thought it was bad when leukemia was just a possibility for his symptoms, it was a million times worse.

  
  
All Jeremy could manage to do was sit in bed and listen to his phone buzz from all his friends texting him while he tried to go to sleep.

  
  
Finally, on Saturday, he gave into his growling stomach, and stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen.

  
  
He saw his dad passed out on the couch with the TV still on. Mr. Heere wasn't wearing pants. Jeremy sighed. It was good while it lasted, Jeremy supposed. It was only like his father to break up into pieces every time he got bad news in his life. Lost his job? Pantless. Wife divorced him? Pantless. Dying son? Pantless.

  
  
Huh. Dying. That was a word Jeremy would have to get used to.

  
  
Opening the pantry door, Jeremy pulled a box of cereal and placed it on the counter. Jeremy started reaching for a bowl in the cabinet, until he decided he'd just eat straight out of the box. Taking the box of Lucky Charms upstairs, he climbed back into bed, and decided he'd watch a few Dan and Phil videos on his laptop.

  
  
Halfway into Phil is not on fire 7, he ran out of cereal. Jeremy groaned, and rolled into a different position on his bed.

  
  
Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Ignoring it, Jeremy went back to his video.

  
  
Buzz.

  
  
Buzz.

  
  
Buzz.

  
  
Buzz, buzz.

  
  
Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

  
  
Buzz, buzz, buzz-

  
  
Letting out a groan of irritation, Jeremy grabbed his phone from his nightstand, curiousity rising in him to find out why he was so popular all of a sudden.

  
  
Jeremy's jaw opened, his phone falling out of his hand.

  
  
mikewazowski: dude tell them

  
  
mikewazowski: jer u have to at some point

  
  
mikewazowski: yknow what

  
  
mikewazowski: ill just tell them myself

  
  
mikewazowski: u had ur chance now im telling them

  
  
mikewazowski: guys

  
  
Drama101: Yes Michael??

  
  
JakeyWakey: wassup

  
  
richerthanu: heyyyyy

  
  
jennarollin: Hey mikael

  
  
BrookieCookie: Michael !! :D

  
  
GreatValentine: hi mike wassup

  
  
mikewazowski: we need to all go to jeremy's house

  
  
mikewazowski: he has something he wants to tell you guys

  
  
Jeremy threw his phone onto his bed in irritation.

  
  
"Really, Michael?" Jeremy groaned. Jeremy sat for a minute, fuming about his situation, before he realized he had seven minutes at most to go ahead and start getting himself decent for human eyes.

  
  
He went into his closet and pulled out his cat-astronaut shirt, and a pair of black sweatpants. He threw the clothes on and just sat and waited for the arrival of his friends.

  
  
Finally, not three minutes later, he heard the doorbell ring. Feeling numb, Jeremy got out of bed and went down stairs. He went to the door and opened it.

  
  
Both Michael and Jake were standing there at the door.

  
  
Jeremy opened the door wider and stepped aside wordlessly to let them in.

  
  
He was glad to see his dad had moved from his spot on the couch. He didn't want to explain that right now.

  
  
He closed the door, not bothering to lock it back as he knew his other friends would arrive in a matter of minutes. He went over to the couch and sat down. Nobody spoke. It was dead quiet. The air of the room was tense.

  
  
A few minutes later, everyone else had arrived.

  
  
Jeremy, Michael, Jenna, and Chloe were on the couch. Rich was sat on the recliner by the couch, and Brooke and Jake sat on the loveseat together, with Christine squished in between the middle of them.

  
  
The room was silent for a moment. Everyone seemed to be staring at Jeremy.

  
  
Jeremy didn’t appreciate that too much.

  
  
“Can everyone stop staring at me?” Jeremy snapped finally.

  
  
No one said anything. They didn’t even avert their eyes.

  
  
“Michael said you had something to tell us,” Chloe finally said, staring straight into Jeremy’s eyes with her sharp, soul searching eyes.

  
  
Jeremy looked at her for a second. Chloe looked right back at him. They kept it this way for a second before Jeremy looked away.

  
  
“Is this why you haven’t been answering our texts?” Brooke asked.

  
  
"Kinda,” Michael answered for Jeremy.

  
  
“Wait, you already know about this, don’t you?” Jenna asked. She left her question at that, the silence being her answer. Suddenly she grinned. “You two are dating now, aren’t you?” she stated rather than asked. “Don’t worry guys, we don’t care. In fact, I think Rich and Jake had a bet going on for how long it would take for you two to get together.”

  
  
“Wait, how do you know about that?” Rich asked. “We never told anyone!”

  
  
Jenna shrugged.

  
  
“Who cares about that,” Jake grumbled, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. “Here’s your twenty.” Jake gave Rich the offered twenty dollar bill.

  
  
Meanwhile, Christine, Brooke and Chloe had squealed when they heard Jenna. Chloe and Brooke had shared a celebratory kiss. They talking to each other, smiles on their faces like they’d all just gotten a puppy.

  
  
Michael cleared his throat, a blush clearly evident on his face. “A-actually,” he stuttered, “it’s about something else.”

  
  
“Ha!” Jake exclaimed, reaching his hand out. Rich begrudgingly returned the twenty dollar bill to his boyfriend.

  
  
The girl’s excitement seemed to have been completely drained from them. “Well what is it, Jeremy?” Christine asked.

  
  
Jeremy took a deep breath. “I-” he started to say, but his voice caught in his throat. “I-I,” he tried again but to avail. He looked to Michael for help, but he just gave him a small supportive smile, and slipped his hand into Jeremy’s.

  
  
“You what?” Brooke asked softly.

  
  
Jeremy took a deep shuddering breath. He felt the corner of his eyes prickling with tears. This was surprisingly harder for Jeremy to do than he thought.

  
  
“I… I have leukemia,” Jeremy finally croaked out.

  
  
If the room was quiet before, it definitely was now.

  
  
Until it wasn’t.

  
  
Now there were two girls crying, two girls sitting in shock, and two boys sitting in silence among themselves.

  
  
Rich suddenly hopped out of the recliner and stomped over to the couch, rage in his eyes.

  
  
“You’re fucking lying to me, Heere!” he fumed.

  
  
Before Jeremy could say anything, Michael stepped in to defend Jeremy.

  
  
“Fuck you, Rich! That’s not something to fucking lie about, Goranski!” Michael shouted.

  
  
“Exactly!” Rich shot back.

  
  
“Rich-” Jake tried to warn Rich but he didn’t hear him. Or he ignored him.

  
  
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, RICH!” Michael roared. “I THOUGHT YOU WERE OUR FRIEND!”

  
  
“YEAH?” Rich bellowed. “I GUESS I THOUGHT I WAS TOO!”

  
  
Rich and Michael glared at each other.

  
  
“Get the fuck out of Jeremy’s house,” Michael hissed.

  
  
“Gladly.”

  
  
Rich grabbed his camo jacket he’d brought along with him and marched over to the door. He glanced towards Jeremy when he opened the door and his expression seemed to soften, a look of remorse on his face when he saw Jeremy crying and the girls consoling him through their own tears. But then the door slammed shut on him and he went unnoticed.

  
  
The girls ushered Jeremy upstairs to his room, but all Jeremy could help thinking was why did his dad not come out into the living room to check on all the screaming? Surely he’d heard all that!

  
  
But then again, maybe he just didn’t care. Jeremy didn’t really know how to feel about it.

  
  
To be honest, Jeremy didn't really care how he felt.

 

* * *

 

  
Jeremy trudged up to the hospital doors, Christine and his dad were at his side (his dad was wearing pants). Jeremy's back already damp with sweat and perspiration dripping uncomfortably down his forehead. When the sun had risen Saturday morning, the hot night had turned into a blistering day. Christine didn't seem affected by this heat, as she kept blabbering about some new musical she found out about.

 

  
Sighing in relief, Jeremy entered the building. The cool air of the hospital washed over him, instantly chilling his hot skin. He shivered slightly as the goosebumps on his arms became more sensitive.

  
  
The doctors and nurses, nodded their heads to in greeting as he walked to his destination. He went over to front desk to approach the nurse there.

  
  
"Hello," he said nervously. "Jeremiah Heere here for an appointment."

  
  
The woman looked up at him briefly before checking the list in front of her. When her gaze returned to his, there was pity in her eyes. She gestured to a door leading to a hallway. "Step into the hallway and wait. I'll be there to escort you to a room in just a moment."

  
  
Jeremy nodded and followed his dad into the hallway. As promised, the nurse came and led them to a room. She motioned for Jeremy to climb into a bed.

  
  
Jeremy climbed into the bed and couldn't help but wondering how long he would undergo treatment. He had read on wikipedia that a cycle of chemo can last 2-6 weeks, but Jeremy didn't exactly know what that meant. He hoped that it wouldn't last too long though. He heard chemo could be pretty painful.

  
  
"Alright, Mr. Heere," the nurse said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Since you've already completed your blood test, we'll start you with some Zofran and our standard round of good stuff to keep you from getting sick."

  
  
She attached a clear bag full of liquid to the top of a tall pole. At the other end was a thin tube that she gathered in her hand. Jeremy looked away as she inserted the intravenous line and fixed the attachments with a guaze like tape.

  
  
"When that bag finishes, I'll start your vincristine IV," she said, patting him comfortingly on the shoulder. "If you start feeling ill or you need me, just call."

  
  
Jeremy nodded and the nurse went back to what she had been doing earlier, and Christine took a seat by Jeremy's hospital bed started to talk about what she'd been talking about earlier.

  
  
"Okay, so Jeremy, you know how in 'Hurricane' Hamilton says 'I couldn't seem to die' and Burr says 'wait for it'!" Christine said. "Mind BLOWN!" she squeaked.

  
  
Jeremy smiled at her antics. He could tell she was trying to distract him with her witty thoughts, and it was admittedly working, so he appreciated that.

  
  
The lady came back in after ten minutes.

  
  
"Here's your first round of chemo," the older woman said. "I'll be back in a moment with the L- asparaginase shot."

  
  
After what seemed like thirty minutes into therapy, Jeremy felt a flare of pain. He tuned out of the conversation and grimaced, clenching his fists and digging his nails into the flesh of his hand.

  
  
Christine stopped her conversation and Jeremy could see her concerned face come into his peripheral vision. Her eyebrows were scrunched up and she was stressing at her lip.

  
  
"Jeremy?" she asked cautiously. "Do I need to get your dad?"

  
  
His dad was in the cafeteria looking for something to bring back for them all and Michael since he said he was on his way to the hospital.

  
  
Jeremy didn't answer. As soon as the flare of pain came, it went away. But he could still subconsciously feel it, like it was still just there.

  
  
After a minute Jeremy shook his head no. He swallowed hard and shifted in his bed, feeling his stomach churn as he did.

  
  
A few more minutes passed when Jeremy got a text.

  
  
mikewazowski: im here

  
  
Presence: k just tell a nurse youre here to see me at the front desk.

  
  
mikewazowski: k thanks

  
  
Jeremy waited for a second.

  
  
"Who was that?" Christine asked.

  
  
"Just Michael. He's here."

  
  
"Oh, okay."

  
  
Christine started humming a song Jeremy didn't think he knew while Jeremy watched the hospital room door for Michael.

  
  
The door swung open eventually and Michael came walking into the room with a bag in his hand.

  
  
Jeremy cocked his head as Michael made his way over, wondering what was in the bag.

  
  
"What's in the bag?" Jeremy asked.

  
  
Michael chuckled. "A 'hey' would've been nice," he grinned. Jeremy was still eyeing the bag. "Fine, I'll tell you what's in the bag."

  
  
He pulled some things out of the bag. Jeremy could tell that it looked to be 3DS and some other things. "I stopped by your house to grab some stuff for you," Michael stated simply, shrugging. "I read that chemo's kinda painful. So I brought you some stuff to take your mind off it."

  
  
Jeremy could've kissed Michael. "What did I do to deserve you?" Jeremy asked.

  
  
"A kiss would be nice," Michael joked. Jeremy felt his face blush. He would like to kiss Michael, Jeremy admitted to himself. Sometimes, he wondered what kissing Michael would be like. But that was something all best friends thought of, right?

  
  
Jeremy didn't know, but he decided to shove the thought away when Michael shoved his 3Ds into his hand.

  
  
"I brought Pokémon and Zelda," Michael said as if that explained it all.

  
  
"Thanks," Jeremy said.

  
  
Michael smiled. "No prob." He scooted his chair closer to Jeremy's bed.

 

* * *

 

  
Jeremy only lasted about six hours before he was sick.

 

  
He felt himself gag as bile started to rise in his throat.

  
  
He looked around the room and saw a bucket by his bed. He hastily grabbed the bucket and started to eject his lunch. Soon after he started retching the remains of his breakfast, he felt two pairs of hands on his back, trying to soothe him through his vomiting. He coughed and gagged relentlessly, feeling cold sweat break out on his forehead and his throat strain with the effort.

  
  
When he finally sat back after emptying his entire gastrointestinal tract of anything it might have ever held, he groaned in agony. His chest and throat burned. He sat up to take a deep breath. Christine had been sitting next to him on the bed, threading her hands through his hair in an effort to help calm him, while Michael had been sitting by him as well, rubbing Jeremy's back to comfort him.

  
  
"Thanks," Jeremy croaked out, his stomach threatening to release the contents of his stomach again.

  
  
Christine only smiled sympathetically while Michael rubbed his back.

  
  
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before he was sick again, this time bringing up nothing but acid. His throat and chest burned for ages after his stomach stopped rebelling.

  
  
Time lapsed hazily, Jeremy falling asleep between bouts of nausea.

  
  
When Jeremy finally woke up again and didn't throw up he saw that it was dusk.

  
  
"Hey, dude."

  
  
Jeremy looked around and saw Rich sitting in a chair next to his bed.

  
  
"W-what are you doing here, R-Rich?" Jeremy asked, remembering the two's fight.

  
  
Rich grinned. "That's exactly what Michael said. He almost tackled me when I came in."

  
  
Jeremy continued to stare at Rich.

  
  
"What?" Rich asked defensively.

  
  
"You avoided my question."

  
  
A sigh escaped Rich. "I came to say sorry," he admitted.

  
  
"It's just... it was really shitty for me to accuse you of lying like that. I just... my mom died from leukemia and... I thought Jenna found out somehow and thought it'd be funny to say that you had cancer to make me mad or whatever," Rich murmured. "But as soon as Michael attacked me I thought I fucked up. And, I'm really sorry I called you a liar. Can you forgive me?"

  
  
Jeremy nodded and softly smiled. "I forgive you."

  
  
Rich grinned. "Great."

  
  
"Hey, Rich?"

  
  
"Yeah, dude?"

  
  
"Where's Michael and Christine?"

  
  
"Oh," Rich said, "Christine had to leave and Michael's getting dinner for you and him."

  
  
"Oh, okay."

  
  
The two fell silent, Jeremy's stomach threatening to release his food again.

  
  
"Rich?"

  
  
"Mhm?"

  
  
"What was your squip?"

  
  
Rich hesitated for a second. "What was yours?"

  
  
"Keanu Reeves," Jeremy answered.

  
  
Rich snorted. "Basic bitch," he joked.

  
  
Jeremy rolled his eyes. "What was yours, Rich?"

  
  
"Y'know The Muppets?"

  
  
"Yeah, like, Miss Piggy, Kermit and all that?"

  
  
"You know the Evil Kermit?"

  
  
Jeremy thought for a second. "Yeah," he finally said. "But what does that have to do with your squip?"

  
  
Rich said nothing, just grinned.

  
  
Eventually, Jeremy caught on. "What the fuck, Richard!" Jeremy laughed. "Did you seriously have Evil Kermit as your squip?"

  
  
Rich shrugged. "I had Fat Albert and Pepe the Frog as my squip too."

  
  
Jeremy let out a gasping laugh.

  
  
Jeremy was glad he and Rich were back on good terms.

  
  
Jeremy wouldn't admit it to anybody, but his former bully was pretty cool.

 

* * *

 

  
Jeremy was currently watching Friends on Michael's laptop as Michael slept in a chair near his bed.

  
  
Rich had left shortly after Michael came back into the room, both glaring at each other. Jeremy was glad Rich had left though. He thought he wouldn't have been able to take that awkward tension that filled the room.

  
  
After watching three episodes in a row without stop, Jeremy's eyelids felt heavy. He closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep, his stomach rolling slowly as he went.

  
  
He slept well for an hour or so, but eventually the nausea woke him up and he reached for the bucket again. This time he was only sick a few times before his stomach was satisfied and calm. Jeremy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gently set the bucket back down to the floor, his chest hurting and his throat burning. It felt even worse this time, as he had to force himself to be quieter in order to not wake up his friend. He could've woken him up, sure, but Jeremy didn't want to bother Michael. He'd already been enough of a nuisance today, all his continuous vomiting.

  
  
Curling up in bed, Jeremy's knees moved to his chest and he whimpered softly, squeezing his eyes shut as a different sort of burning heat rose from his chest to his throat and eyes. He smothered it down with a shuddering breath and lay there, feeling sorry for himself. Eventually the troubled teen slipped off into sleep, his troubled expression unseen in the darkness. 

* * *

 

  
  
Sunday came and went in a flash. The hospital had stopped the chemo for the time being until he recovered from his first bout.

  
  
When Jeremy woke up, Michael hadn't been there. He looked around and saw a note addressed to him.

  
  
He picked the note off his nightstand and began reading the note.

  
  
jeremy,

  
  
ive gone down to get something to eat for u & me. dont worry ill brb. im coming right back. idk if ull see this but i wrote it incase u woke up.

  
  
love

  
mikey

  
  
Jeremy sighed in relief. Michael knew him too well. If he hadn't written that note to explain his absence, Jeremy would've stressed out over all the possibilities and completely overthink his situation.

  
  
But thankfully, as promised, Michael came back to the room with two trays in his hands, pleasantly surprised to see Jeremy up.

  
  
Jeremy had spent the whole of Sunday in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom, and still needing help to do just that. The pervasive weakness in his limbs shocked him; he hadn't the energy to sit up for more than an hour.

  
  
Michael eventually had to leave due to his moms' orders, but he'd said he'd be back the next day, or send someone else in for comfort for his second go on chemo if he couldn't come.

  
  
Jeremy only nodded in response, thanking him for his company, and rolled over in bed, his back facing Michael.

  
  
"You okay? I can ask my moms if I can stay, they'd probably let me," Micheal said.

  
  
"No, it's fine. I can take care of myself," mumbled Jeremy.

  
  
"No, seriously, if you want me to stay, I will-"

  
  
Jeremy turned his head to face Michael. "No, Michael. Go be with your moms. I'm sure they'd like to see you," Jeremy said firmly. "Besides, I'm not some – some charity cause. I can handle myself."

  
  
Michael had a slightly hurt expression on his face, like a kicked puppy. Jeremy sighed and turned over in bed and sat up shakily. He propped himself on his pillows and looked to Michael.

  
  
"I'm sorry Mikey. I didn't mean to hurt you," Jeremy apologized.

  
  
"It's okay," Michael responded softly.

  
  
Jeremy shook his head. "No, it's not. But you don't need to worry so much about me," Jeremy smiled weakly. "I have my dad and... he'll take care of me for you. He had to go home since you stayed over tonight, but I'll call him and then you can go see your moms."

  
  
Michael thought over it. Hesitantly, the filipino boy nodded and sat down on the side of Jeremy's bed, handing Jeremy his phone.

 

* * *

 

  
Tuesday dawned hotter than any other day that summer.

  
  
Jeremy woke in his bed. He'd just been discharged from the hospital, only to be told to come back on Friday again. When the teen had gotten home, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, body aching and tired. He had been pleased the tiredness and aching hadn't plagued him come Tuesday morning.

  
  
It was 9:23 AM, yet Jeremy was currently in his living room, waiting for his friends to come pick him up. Chloe had texted everyone and said they'd all be doing something fun today. Rich was supposed to be picking him up any minute.

  
  
So sure enough, a few moments later, Rich was waking everyone up by his loud, repetitive honking.

  
  
"GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT HERE, HEERE!"

  
  
Jeremy threw open the door, and shoved his phone in his pocket. "God, Rich, you probably woke the whole goddamn neighborhood up," Jeremy said as Rich smiled smugly to the other boy. "Oh come on, it's 9:30. Everyone should've been up by now," Rich responded.

  
  
Jeremy rolled his eyes. It was just Rich to act like this. Jeremy opened the back door and climbed in the van and sat by Chloe. 

 

"Hey, Jeremy," the girl said while she applied her makeup. She closed her hand mirror and ruffled her hair. "Hey," Jeremy said.

 

She glanced over to Jeremy and pursed her lips. "What's up?" 

 

Jeremy sighed. "Nothing."

 

Chloe smirked. "I don't think it's nothing. I just think you don't want to tell me."

 

Jeremy opened his mouth to argue. "N-no! It's not that, I just, uh-"

 

Chloe laughed, "Dude, it's fine. I get it. Some things you just don't wanna share."

 

Jeremy looked at Chloe with gratitude. "Thanks, Chloe."

 

The brunette smiled. "No problem."

 

Eventually the others were in the car and ready, and that was when Chloe finally told them all what they were doing. 

 

"Guys, we're all going to Six Flags," Chloe announced. 

 

Jeremy raised his eyebrows. He actually quite enjoyed Six Flags. He had a faint memory of going to Six Flags with his parents and Michael and his moms. 

 

Jeremy looked over to Michael and the two made eye contact. Michael grinned and Jeremy smiled. The two would definitely have fun riding all the rides they couldn't ride when they were smaller. 

 

The group was eventually out of the van (thank god, Rich was a crazy driver) and currently in line waiting for a ride. 

 

Eventually, everyone was in sections at the queue to identify what row they'd all be in. Fortunately, Michael and Jeremy were sent to the front. 

 

"Yes!" Michael had cheered while Jeremy smiled. "Suck on that Rich and Jake!" 

 

"Fuck you Michael!" Jake said back, a mother covering her child's ears and glaring at Jake and Michael. 

 

Jeremy leaned against the rail while Michael tapped his foot, both waiting for the cart. 

 

When the cart pulled up, Jeremy clambered in, happiness coursing through him. Jeremy sat down and pulled down the safety bar. Michael sat down next to Jeremy and strapped himself in. Finally, the ride began to move. Michael and Jeremy made eye contact, both thrilled for the ride. 

 

The ride was crazy and fast, with circles and swerves around every corner. Jeremy laughed through most of it, while Michael whooped and put his arms in the air. 

 

"Come on Jeremy, raise your arms up!" Michael yelled.

 

Jeremy raised his arms in the air, and needless to say, laughter filled the air. 

 

* * *

 

 

"Dude, can I have a bite of your pretzel?" Rich asked, eying Jeremy's pretzel in hunger. After going on a few more less intense rides than the first one, everyone agreed on the decision to stop for a snack break. Jeremy had gotten a pretzel from the snack bar while Michael had gotten nachos for the rest of the table. Jeremy had politely declined everyone's offer to nachos, in favor of eating a plain pretzel with cheese. It seemed though, that everyone wanted a taste of his pretzel, so, Jeremy, quite frankly being a pushover, reluctantly agreed to letting everyone have some of his pretzel. 

 

"Rich, I just gave you some of my pretzel a second ago!" Jeremy laughed. 

 

Pouting like a puppy, Rich picked up a nacho and stuffed it in his mouth. 

 

"Jeremy?"

 

"Yes, Christine?" Jeremy answered. 

 

"Can _I_ have some of your pretzel?" Christine politely asked. 

 

"Sure," Jeremy said holding out his pretzel for her to take. 

 

"I- uh- wha-" Rich stammered. 

 

Jeremy smirked deviously. 

 

"You fucking gave it to her and not me?!" Rich shrieked. 

 

"Yep."

 

"You motherfucker," Rich groaned. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Jeremy was dropped off at his house at 10:56, he was in higher spirits than he'd been since the beginning of his whole ordeal. 

 

That was until he opened the door.

 

He saw his dad pantless and passed out on the couch with numerous beer cans strewn around him. Seeing his dad like that instantly made his good mood drop. Yes, it was just like last time he was pantless. 

 

Jeremy scowled and began to make his way across the room and trudged up the stairs. When Jeremy got up to his room, he sat down on his bed and laid down. He closed his eyes, just listening to the owls hoot outside his window.

 

He drew in a deep breath and let it out, opening his eyes again.

 

Jeremy groaned and turned over in bed. Exhaustion was creeping over him. His heavy eyelids were beginning to shut of their own accord. Eventually he drifted off into dreamland once more.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Skip ahead a week into chemo. Jeremy was over at Michael's house and was just finishing up using the bathroom after a round of Mario Kart. 

 

He opened the door and made his way down the stairs and into Michael's basement. When he was downstairs, he saw Michael observing something that was in his hand. Perplexed, Jeremy walked over to see what he was looking at.

 

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Jeremy asked, looking over Michael's shoulder.

 

Michael jumped, and hid what he was looking at away. But Jeremy had already seen it. His eyes were widened. 

 

Jeremy said nothing and grabbed Michael's hand. He forced Michael's hand open and retrieved the item. 

 

Jeremy stared at what was in his hand. 

 

"Jeremy..." Michael attempted but his voice failed him. 

 

What Jeremy had in his hand, was a clump of his own hair. 

 

He realized with a terrifying thought, that he was already losing his hair. 

 

"Jeremy... it's really not as bad as you think... you'll look great bald! Hell, you're dad does..." Michael faltered, looking at Jeremy's hair. 

 

Jeremy took a shaky breath and pocketed his hair.

 

"Come on," Jeremy said in a shaky voice that didn't quite sound like his own. "L-let's play a new round."

 

"Jeremy..." Michael tried, but Jeremy picked up his controller and sat on his beanbag, successfully ending the conversation.

 

* * *

 

Four days later, Jeremy was lying down on his bed, trying very hard to get some rest. The additional exposure to chemotherapy agents on Saturday had him either flat on his back or hovering over his porcelain throne.

 

Just as he was going to drift off, his dad walked in, surprisingly wearing pants.

 

Jeremy struggled to open his heavy eyes and focused on his dad's wavering visage.

  

"Jeremy, can we, uh, talk?" Mr. Heere asked.

 

Jeremy hummed, and his dad sat down on Jeremy's desk chair. 

 

"I'm... I came up here to talk with you," Mr. Heere said, his voice wavering. "I know I broke my promise to you on how... how I'd be a better dad..."

 

Mr. Heere's eyes shone with regret. "A-and I've been a pretty shitty dad, haven't I?" Jeremy didn't even respond, but now his eyes were fully on his dad.

 

"Moping around... and... and I'm so s-sorry!" and his voice broke. "I should b-be here for you r-right now but here I am, acting like it's my life on the line...."

 

"Dad," Jeremy said, sitting up in bed, "why... why are we just now having this talk?"

 

Mr. Heere sighed, and searched his pocket for something. "Jeremy, I..." he held something in his hand, "I found a clump of your hair on the couch."

 

Jeremy took a deep breath. The two were quiet. 

 

"I'm losing my hair, aren't I?" Jeremy asked precipitately.

 

Mr. Heere closed his eyes, looking down. "Yes, Jeremy. I'm afraid you are."

 

Jeremy nodded. "Do you love me?" Jeremy asked.

 

Mr. Heere smiled, "I have pants on, don't I?"

 

Jeremy rolled his eyes and attempted to duck out of the way of his dad's nuggie, but to no avail.

 

"Dad! Stop!" Jeremy laughed, grabbing his dad's arms to get out of his headlock. He was released and Jeremy rubbed at his scalp, a smile tugging at his lips. 

 

"Now come on, champ. Come downstairs?" Mr. Heere asked.

 

"Okay," he said softly, getting out of bed.

 

Jeremy snorted with laughter and his dad ruffled his hair indignantly before slinging an arm over his shoulder and leading him downstairs for a very overdue talk.

 

* * *

 

Jeremy groaned as he pushed himself up against the tile wall of the bathroom. His skin tingled to the touch and every movement caused a burning, prickling sensation along the affected areas. A very rebellious stomach rolled and churned, causing him to swallow convulsively to keep from being sick. Jeremy closed his eyes and hoped that he wouldn't have to vomit again.

 

His methods might have worked, if a sudden ringing of the doorbell hadn't startled him into moving and opening his eyes. Jeremy had no choice but to clutch at the toilet again, his insides twisting and expelling nothing but stomach acid. He had long since gotten rid of everything else.

 

Jeremy's dad must've let them in because before Jeremy knew it, hands were rubbing his back in such soothing motions that when he looked back when he was done to see who it was he was admittedly surprised. 

 

Jake had rushed from the doorway to becalm Jeremy while Rich, Jenna, Chloe and Brooke were left to stare at the scene of their friend disgorge his plain lunch (or whatever was left of it) into the porcelain god. 

 

When he was finally able to stop, Jeremy breathed heavily, something through all his vomiting had been lessened. "'orry," Jeremy whispered.

 

"It's okay," Jake said gently, closing the toilet lid and helping Jeremy sit down on it. Jake glanced to the group at the doorway and silently told them to leave, then knelt to look him in the eye. "Are you alright?"

 

Jeremy swallowed slowly and nodded. "I'm fine," he lied, putting a hand to his fuzzy head. "What're you doing here?" he croaked out, wincing at his voice.

 

Jake smiled slightly. "Just thought we'd visit."

 

The two sat in serenity, the sound of Jeremy catching his breath filling the atmosphere. 

 

"It feels like I haven't been here in forever," Jake bemused aloud. "Uh, your house, I mean. Not your bathroom."

 

Jeremy laughed quietly. "Awkward Jake over here for once."

 

Jake grinned and rolled his eyes. He got up and walked to the window. He stared outside for a while until Jeremy's heavy breathing ceased. 

 

He turned back around. "You okay now?" He addressed Jeremy with kindness.

 

Jeremy nodded. He clutched the corner of the sink to get up, his knuckles white from gripping the counter, but even then he still got up from the toilet with wobbly legs. Jake went over to help Jeremy until he regained his balance, knowing that if he were to walk into the room with Jake's aid it would embarrass him to bits. 

 

The two walked into the Heere's living room, Jeremy expecting them all to be quietly conversing amongst themselves, but surprisingly, they were all in a full blown conversation with his dad.

 

"Jeremy," Chloe noticed him first. Jeremy could've sworn he saw Chloe and Jake make eye contact. "Hey."

 

"Hey, Chloe," Jeremy responded rather lamely he thought.

 

"Are you okay Jeremy?" Brooke asked with a concerned frown. 

 

"Yeah, dude, you really scared us," Rich piped up. Jenna nodded in agreement.

 

"Yeah," Jeremy said, shooting Jake a grateful look. "Now, at least."

 

* * *

 

By the end of June (it was June 22) Jeremy had lost all of his hair. The remainder was now what felt like peach fuzz. His friends had been open that they didn't care and reassured him nonstop that he 'slayed in no hair' (Chloe's actual words) but Jeremy himself had found himself emotionless during this stage of chemo (which didn't seemed to be helping (it actually seemed to be doing a lot more bad than good.))

 

A night after he'd finally lost all of his hair, he looked in the mirror. He felt repulsed. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his skin was pasty and paler, as if he'd been completely drained from the little color his skin had before this ordeal. When he lifted his arms, all he saw of his arms looked like twigs. He remembered a youtuber he'd heard of. Eugenia Cooney? Yeah, he looked like her.

 

Jeremy looked in the mirror and had to bite back a sob from crying out. He refused to cry even in his own home. Boys weren't supposed to care about their appearances; they weren't supposed to care they were going bald. Only girls could do that.

 

Jeremy asked Michael about it the next time Michael was over at his house. 

 

The two boys were playing AotD 2 on their beanbags, but Jeremy was terrible at it. He kept pressing the wrong buttons on his controller and kept on getting himself or Michael killed. Sometimes both. Jeremy could tell it was really starting to piss Michael off, but he sure didn't say anything. 

 

Finally, when the two took a break from slaying zombies (and in Jeremy's case getting slain by zombies) he brought up the subject. 

 

"Worrying about my appearance is just for girls, right? Should I care about me being bald?" Jeremy asked fiddling with his fingers. 

 

Michael didn't say anything, which led Jeremy to believe he'd ignored him and Jeremy shut his mouth, already starting to feel his face color. _God_ , he was _such an idiot_ -

 

Michael put his arms around Jeremy in a matter of seconds and squeezed Jeremy to him. Jeremy was still for a second before finally melting into the embrace. 

 

"Now," Michael said, pulling away from the embrace and placing his hands on Jeremy's shoulders firmly, his voice  shaking with anger, "what the _hell_ makes you think that?"

 

Jeremy ducked his head, really wishing his bangs could hide his face right about now.

 

"Nothing," he mumbled.

 

"Huh?" Michael asked.

 

"Nothing," Jeremy said louder.

 

"No, I know what you said, I just want you to know that I know you're lying to me."

 

Jeremy looked away, his face starting to heat up. 

 

Michael sighed. "Sorry, that was harsh, I know... It's just... you _can_ care about how you look. Crying about going bald isn't bad, Jeremy. Hell, I'd be crying if I went bald. You're even stronger than me if you really didn't care. But I know you. It's probably eating you up inside, huh?"

 

Jeremy bit his lip. He hesitated. He nodded. 

 

Michael wrapped his arms around him again. "Well don't worry. You look beautiful."

 

Jeremy felt himself blush at his friend's praise. He felt his stomach go into flips, but not the kind he got when he was going to be sick, he knew that. No, it was the kind he got when he'd had that huge crush on a girl named Bianca Cashers in sixth grade, or his most recent crush, Christine. 

 

Jeremy ignored that feeling though and hugged his best friend back. 

 

* * *

 

"So..." Jeremy took a breath, "what do I do?"

 

Jeremy was in Chloe's room with Chloe and Brooke and he'd just finished telling the two girls his "situation". Christine was there too, as well as Jenna, but the two other girls had gone downstairs to get some snacks for a group bonding session the SQUIP squad was having. Jeremy had gotten there early so he'd decided to tell the two love experts his problem.

 

They didn't even hesitate, "You have a crush on him," Chloe said immediately after he told them. Brooke was painting her girlfriend's toenails while Chloe brushed Brooke's hair. 

 

"Yeah. And a major one at that," Brooke said. She looked up from painting Chloe's toenails. "Fingers," Brooke told Chloe. 

 

Jeremy groaned and fell onto Chloe's bed, looking up to her fairy light adorned ceiling. 

 

"Relax, it's not the end of the world," Brooke soothed. Chloe nodded. "If anything, it just makes it better for Michael."

 

"Huh?" Jeremy sat up. "What about Michael?"

 

Chloe and Brooke stared at him. 

 

"Oh my god, he was right. You really _are_ oblivious as fuck," Chloe said. Then with a shrug she said, "But not that we didn't know that before, either."

 

"No! What about Michael?" Jeremy asked. 

 

"He'll tell you eventually," Brooke smirked. 

 

"Ugh!" Jeremy said flopping back onto Chloe's bed.

 

* * *

 

Days came by in a blur, and Jeremy seemed sick for the whole of it. It seemed that he lived in the bathroom now from how much time he was spending there. Soon days became weeks, and there wasn't a single change.

 

Michael came over one day, then he just kinda asserted himself into the picture. No one minded, though. Jeremy enjoyed the new pair of comforting hands while he threw up. It made Jeremy feel better.

 

Jeremy woke up one morning in his bed (which was weird because he remembered falling asleep at the toilet) with Michael right up close to his face. Jeremy used all of his willpower to not squeak out. He shut his eyes tightly and rolled over in bed, feeling his face heat up. A few moments later, he felt Michael stirring next to him and bed and cuddle up with Jeremy. Jeremy knew his friend was awake, and he nearly died (not literally, chill) when Michael wrapped his arms around Jeremy's waist.

 

The next few days went somewhat like that. Mr. Heere didn’t ask for them to do anything. Mostly, Jeremy slept while Michael got on his phone. Jeremy barely ate anything, but today was different. Jeremy's appetite was reformed.

 

“Here you go,” Michael whispered, setting down a bowl of warm soup on the nightstand next to Jeremy. Jeremy propped himself against his pillows and stared down at the yellow-ish liquid with noodles and chunks of what looked to be chicken. Though Jeremy was feeling a little queasy, he forced down a few bites. The next thing to come was one of the worst feelings in his opinion. The bowl clattered to the hardwood floor as Jeremy bolted to the bathroom. The little Jeremy had eaten in the last two days had sloshed around in his stomach long enough. Jeremy threw it all up in the toilet.

 

Suddenly, the soothing sound of Michael's voice filled Jeremy's ears and Jeremy felt him rubbing his back in small motions.

 

“Shh,” he reassured. “You’re going to be alright, Miah,” He soothed into Jeremy's ear.

 

Jeremy tried to speak, but his sentence only came in fragments. “I... shower...” He felt Michael's body shake with laughter.

 

“Well fuck, Jeremy,” he grinned. “You just violently puked up your guts and now you insist you must shower.” Jeremy turned to puke again. At this point it was nothing but stomach acid.

 

When Michael looked at the toilet bowl, he paled. Jeremy could tell he wanted to scream. Jeremy couldn’t stop puking. Then he saw it.

 

Jeremy wanted to scream a curse, but it barely came to a whisper.

 

“Mr. Heere!" Michael called. “Mr. Heere, we need you! Jeremy's throwing up blood!” Tears sprang to Jeremy's eyes. It burned so bad. It made him hurt all over. he felt dizzy, as if he might pass out. Jeremy heard his dad gasp from the doorway and say something about calling an ambulance before scrambling away.

 

The last thing Jeremy remembered was being held by Michael and saying, “Micah, don't let me die," over and over again like a mantra until he blacked out. 

 

* * *

 

Jeremy woke up to a bright light shining in his face. He tried to sit up but his arms felt like lead. He propped himself on his elbows and looked around the room. Nobody was currently in the room, not even Michael who always was when he woke up. There were tons of balloons and flowers with cards saying 'Get Well Soon!' with a heart. There was a huge stuffed bear holding a heart on a chair next to him. 

 

After a moment in silence, the bear seemingly staring at Jeremy the whole time, Dr. Hoffman entered the room. 

 

"Ah, Jeremy, you're awake," Dr. Hoffman said.

 

"Is Michael here?" Jeremy asked. "Or my dad?" He hated the crack in his voice to no end but he couldn't find himself to care right now. 

 

Hoffman smiled, "He's been waiting here this whole time." She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I've noticed you two seem quite attached... do I need to tell him he can't get in the bed with a patient?"

 

Jeremy felt his face go red. "We- I- we're just friends," he stammered. 

 

She smiled lightly, her eyes crinkling softly, a few wisps of her blonde hair falling into her face. Jeremy had never considered how old she was. She couldn't have been older than thirty, that was for sure. 

 

"I'll go get him," she said and walked out the door to retrieve Michael. 

 

A second later, Michael all but ran into the room, pouncing onto Jeremy and clutching him to his chest tightly, mumbling "fuck you" into Jeremy's shoulder. 

 

Jeremy got a good look at him when he pulled away and tried not to wince. He looked exhausted with shadows under his eyes and greasy hair. Jeremy suddenly realized how disgusting he must've looked. He chose not to think about it. Wow, flirting 101. Be in hospital room with your crush and look like an actual train wreck? Perfect. Best way to a person's heart. He probably didn't smell all too great too. He didn't think about that either.

 

"So, how long was I out?" Jeremy asked.

 

"Two days," Michael said. "It scared the living shit out of everyone though."

 

Jeremy chuckled. "How long 'till your moms want you to come home?"

 

Michael's expression got serious. "I'm staying here with you until you..." he trailed off.

 

"Until I what Micah?"

 

"... Until you get better," Michael said firmly.

 

Jeremy had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Michael, come on. We both know that's not gonna happen."

 

Michael inhaled sharply, "You have a chance. You can get through this."

 

"Bullshit," Jeremy muttered. "I call bullshit."

 

Michael sat down on the bed, a dip forming in the mattress. "Don't make me say it," Michael whimpered. "You can live through this. Don't make me say it. Not yet."

 

Jeremy felt the emotion in his friend's voice. He felt himself start to tear up. "I'm... I'm sorry." Michael wiped a tear that was running down Jeremy's cheek. Jeremy wanted to kiss him and hold him and tell him that he loved him, but he couldn’t. He was bound to his spot by his judgement. 

 

Michael leaned his head on Jeremy's shoulder. 

 

"Hey, Michael?"

 

"Yeah, Miah?"

 

"I... I love you."

 

Michael nestled into Jeremy's side. 

 

"I love you too."

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy woke up in the middle of the night a few days later on July 6th. He couldn't go back to sleep, since a hospital was never truly quiet so it was always hard to sleep. 

 

So with a sudden urge, he untangled himself from his sheets and got out of bed and wheeled his IV with him while he walked. 

 

He stood by the window and opended the window. Finally, his arms shaking with effort, he had the window open. He sighed and closed his eyes as he felt the breeze caress his face gently. He sensed the wind slightly blowing his hair around in the breeze.

 

He felt content. Not the same kind of content he felt when he was with his friends or Michael. This was a different kind. He felt... at peace. Like he'd accepted his inevitable death sentence.

 

Jeremy stood at the window until it was a struggle to keep his eyelids from drooping, so he went back to his bed and climbed back in. He slept well that night, a rarity for him it seemed these days.

 

* * *

 

 

It was raining.

 

Jeremy liked the rain.

 

It always reminded him of his mom.

 

He had a vague memory from his childhood that had stuck with him through all these years. Sometimes, on nights when it's raining he liked to think about the memory.

 

 

 

"Mama?" A young Jeremy peeks into the room clutching a rabbit stuffed animal and blanket to his chest. "Are you awake?" he whispered from the door.

 

"Jeremy?" His mother's voice asked from the other side of the room from the bed. "What are you doing up, Jee?"

 

"I c-can't go to sleep. The thunder scared me," Jeremy explained. "Can I sleep with you?"

 

"Oh, baby, of course you can," his mom's soft voice sympathized. She scooted over. "Come on, get into bed."

 

Jeremy cracked the door open and walked to the bed and crawled in. He cuddled into his mom's side, burying his face into her arm.

 

Right then, a loud rumble of thunder echoed and seemed to shake the whole house. Jeremy was trembling, squeezing his rabbit to his chest.

 

"I-I'm scared, m-mommy," Jeremy stuttered. His mother took her son into her arms. "Shh, I know, I know," she soothed while she rubbed his back.

 

Lightning danced across the sky like a ballet, sharp edges cutting through the dark night. "Lightning," Mrs. Heere says quietly to herself, and then counts, "Two, three, four," and then the thunder sounds, a low rumble. Jeremy, fascinated, scrambles out of the bed to press his nose against the window, squinting and looking for more lightning, wanting his mom to count for him again. The lightning flashes, a sharp crack coming with it, and then his mom whispers, "two, three..." and before she can get to four, there's the thunder again.

 

The lightning flashes, lighting up the whole street with white for a second, and Jeremy can see it against his eyelids, it's so bright. His mother blinks, too, and counts, "Two, three," and then she gasps just as the thunder sounds.

 

The lightning flashes, even brighter than before, and Jeremy blinks away the shock of light. He lets out a tired yawn and snuggles back up to his mom, finally at peace.

 

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Jeremy," his mother says while she stroked his hair. "I'll be there for you."

 

 

* * *

 

Jeremy woke up to someone shaking him awake.

 

A groan escaped Jeremy's mouth as he cracked open a bleary eye to see Michael the suspect of the shaking. He rolled over and buried his face into his pillow.

 

"Jeremy," Michael whined.

 

"What," Jeremy said into the pillow.

 

"Wake up!"

 

Jeremy rolled over to face Michael so he could glare at him. "I'm up."

 

When Jeremy caught a good look at his friend, he couldn't help but smile. Michael had a stupid-huge grin on his face and an expression that resembled the joy of a toddler who just got a new toy. 

 

"What, you doofus?" Jeremy laughed. 

 

Michael's smile grew. "It's your birthday!" he exclaimed and threw his hands up into the air. 

 

Jeremy scrunched up his eyes for a split second and then shot up in bed. "It's my birthday!"

 

Michael's laughter filled the room. 

 

If Jeremy was honest, he thought he'd be dead by the time his birthday rolled around, forever trapped in the age of seventeen. But here he was, alive and well-er... alive, and had been eighteen for hours before he knew it. And to think, he'd forgotten his own birthday?

 

"Is it bad I forgot my own birthday?" Jeremy asked. 

 

"Wait you forgot your own birthday?" Michael asked incredulously.

 

Jeremy shrugged, "I didn't think I'd live this long."

 

Michael hesitated for a second, trying to find the right words. "Well," he said, "you did. And now today's going to be fun."

 

"Thanks," Jeremy smiled. "I mean it."

 

Michael blushed for a second. "You're welcome."

 

For the next hour, Jeremy was in bed watching Friends on his laptop until the hospital room door unexpectedly opened and his friends came piling into the room. 

 

"Jeremy, happy birthday!" Christine said.

 

"Yeah, happy b-day, dude," Rich said as he walked in.

 

Jeremy smiled. "Thanks, Christine, Rich."

 

He could see Jenna pull out her phone out of the corner of his eye, no doubt ready to capture the moment and put it on her instagram. He made a mental note to check her account for posts later. 

 

"Happy birthday, son," a voice said from the door.

 

Jeremy turned to look and froze, his eyes widening.

 

There, standing in the doorway next to his dad, was his mother, crying and smiling through her tears. 

 

Jeremy's breathing hitched.

 

"M-mom?" Jeremy whispered, suddenly breathless. 

 

His mother walked over to his bedside with her arms outstretched. Jeremy wholeheartedly returned the hug.

 

His mom cradled him to her chest, cooing and humming. 

 

Jeremy didn't know it at the time but his friends were severely touched by the displayed affection the mother and son showed to one another. Rich and Michael were probably the most touched, Rich because he didn't have a mother of his own to act like this around, and Michael because he hadn't seen his friend this happy since his mom had left. 

  

They all went to The Bent Spoon, a great ice cream parlor everyone agreed on. 

 

They all decided to walk since it was a beautiful day and the shop was close. (No one had a car big enough to fit everyone.)

 

But as they walked Jeremy could feel the eyes of several pedestrians on the back of his head. He knew why. 

 

He felt as if he could sink into the ground right now and just disappear for forever. He'd rather be anything else right now and not Jeremy that weird teenager wearing a cardigan in 70 degrees heat wearing beaten up converse and acne all over his face and acne scars all over and braces and fucking bald. He knows he's disgusting that nobody cares for him. He wishes he was a dog. Or a cat. Cat's are better. He likes cats more. But ew, a poor cat doesn't deserve the fate of being him. No, he should be a praying mantis, or a chair or a mechanical pencil or just dead. As long as he's not Jeremy and oh god why is he on the floor? Get up Jeremy, get off the ground. He was a waste of space, he doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve to live, no one deserves to be burdened with him and his neediness. He's terrible he knows he is but-

 

He suddenly feels a warm hand in his, fingers lacing through his own. "Breathe," he hears someone whisper in his ear. He opens his eyes tiredly (he didn't even know they were closed) and sees Christine squat down at his side, stroking the side of his cheek and whispering into his ear. 

 

"You're doing great Jeremy," another voice says beside him. He doesn't even have to look to know it was Michael. Just hearing his calm voice he knew it was Michael. 

 

"Are you sure he's supposed to turn that pale?" Another voice said, Jeremy didn't know who but he didn't care who. His heart was racing, and it felt like it would explode. He saw someone get out their phone and he closed his eyes.

 

"No, Jeremy!" Christine slapped his cheek. Jeremy's eyelids shot back open. He looked at Christine, feeling betrayed. 

 

"Sorry," she said in a meek voice. "We have to keep you awake. We don't know what's wrong yet and it's not safe." She was biting her lip anxiously. 

 

"Just got off the phone, the ambulance will be here soon," Michael said, as he crouched back down to Jeremy's level.

 

Jeremy had to struggle to keep from closing his eyes. 

 

"C'mon, Jeremy, just a little bit longer," Christine whimpered.

 

Jeremy took a deep swallow and squeezed his eyes shut for a second. He opened them a few seconds later and breathed deeply. 

 

Minutes later, he could faintly hear an ambulance's sirens. 

 

He was glad, because he felt his eyelids start to close. This time, without struggle, he let them close, and welcomed unconsciousness with welcome arms.

 

* * *

 

"Mr. Heere?" A voice called out through the hall.

 

A man who was previously sitting in a chair in the waiting room with his head in his hands looked up. A tan, what looked like filipino boy, also looked up from his phone, looking from the man to the doctor.

 

"We need you for a moment," the doctor said while he looked down at his clipboard.

 

The man who responded to Mr. Heere got up from his seat as well as the filipino boy in a red hoodie. The doctor pursed his lips.

 

"Only a guardian is allowed to hear this," the doctor said firmly.

 

Mr. Heere glared at the doctor. "Whatever you say to me you can tell Michael."

 

The doctor let out a sigh. "Fine. Come with me."

 

The doctor led them to an office, which both men assumed was his office. 

 

The doctor opened the door and went straight to his desk. He fiddled with something behind the desk and looked up to see both men standing awkwardly at the door.

 

"Sit down." He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk. The two men hesitantly sat down, the filipino one wearing an uncomfortable expression. 

 

"So..." the doctor started. "We had to go into an emergency operation, as both of you may know." The two men nodded. The doctor continued. "And we didn't find anything that could've caused this episode."

 

"That's... that's good, isn't it?" The filipino boy named Michael asked.

 

The doctor shook his head gravely. "No, it isn't. It's worrying, actually. If this were to happen again in the future we'd have no idea what caused it and what to do to prevent it. As of now we're thinking heat stroke, but we have no evidence for that."

 

The doctor looked up. "Any questions?"

 

With no response from the two men, he sent them out and allowed them to visit his patient. 

 

"Mr. Heere?" the doctor called out as they were leaving. 

 

He met the doctor's eyes. "Yes?"

 

"Your son has been put on chemo, so just keep that in mind. Be gentle. Chemo's pretty nasty."

 

Mr. Heere nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I'll remember."

 

The doctor hummed in reply and went back to his work.

 

* * *

  

Michael had held Jeremy's hand all through the night, even when visiting hours were over. He stayed with him, gripping his friend's hand until his knuckles were white. 

 

When Jeremy awoke, he'd smiled his smile of his, soft and innocent, successfully melting Michael's heart to mush as his smile always did.

 

"Hey, Micah," Jeremy mumbled. His eyes were doughy and glazed over.

 

Michael smiled back, rubbing his thumb over Jeremy's hand. "Hey, Miah."

 

Jeremy smiled and closed his eyes. Michael noticed how his eyelashes were ebony in comparison to Jeremy's pale skin, as were the bags and dark circles under his eyes. But other than that, he looked just like Jeremy had before the cancer; he still had freckles that adorned his nose and cheeks like specks of honey, and his eyes and smiles were still as bright as ever.

 

But it hit Michael like a sack of bricks; Jeremy was slipping through Michael's fingers like grains of sand. He had a shit load of morphine and who knows what else being injected into him, and his heart rate monitor never looked quite the way it should. Jeremy was fading away, Michael couldn’t save him with Moutain Dew Red this time. This time, the loss would be forever and inevitable. 

 

Michael hoped, no, _prayed_ that somehow a miracle would help his player two survive this hellish nightmare called life, but he knew miracles were bullshit. They only happen in movies. And this wasn't a movie. This was real life at it's worst.

 

* * *

  

Jeremy felt his heartbeat getting weaker and weaker. He couldn’t speak and could barely move. He tried to tell the nurses to stop, and that treatment was killing him, but they were walking away. How were they oblivious to the fact that his heart was irregular? Maybe they thought that this was normal for him, since his heartbeat had a different pattern every time Michael walked in.

 

Using the last of his strength, Jeremy felt for the tube in his left arm. He found it, and tried to enclose his fingers so he could rip it out of the back of his elbow. He succeeded, finally, but it was too late. His heart was failing. He looked for the button for the nurse.

 

Fuck. He was too far away. His bed was moved too far away from the nurse’s button. There was a sensation by his knee. The remote. He couldn’t sit up, so he had to contort his body to pick up the remote. Finally, as he felt his heartbeat declining, he got it. He threw it at the button, and two nurses ran into his room. 

 

The monitor flatlined, but he could still hear everything. He heard one nurse call for backup as one came rushing over to Jeremy's side. He heard them yelling commands at each other and a few more people run into the room. He could hear shouts from outside his room but he couldn't tell. Then, he felt himself get shocked, much like the SQUIP had done to him many times to behave. He felt his heartbeat start back up again as panic started coursing through him. Was the SQUIP back? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, _no_ this could not be happening. The SQUIP wasn't back, it couldn't be.

 

He felt the shock on his chest again and his whole body jolted. They did it once more and he felt air enter his lungs once more. He felt himself cough violently as sobs rang throughout the room. Jeremy didn't know why there were sobs, but he was too tired to find out. He was once again drowned in blissful numbness. 

 

But before he was blessed with unconsciousness, he heard two words:

 

"Heart failure."

 

* * *

 

The next day he was plagued with illness.

 

He remembered waking up once and having Chloe and Brooke both at his side, Brooke nails scratching his head while the tapping of Chloe's nails against her phone screen echoing through the room calmed him. 

 

Then another time, Rich, Jake, and Jenna were in the room. Rich and Jake were talking in hushed voices in the corner of the room while Jenna listened to music on her phone, quietly humming to the lyrics.

 

And then Christine was there talking to his dad and he actually communicated with the two of them. Well, sort of. He only asked what day it was and then went back to sleep. It was July 16th, by the way.

 

Then he remembered waking up numerous times to Micheal being somewhere in the room. Once he sat at the end of his bed typing on his laptop. Another time he was walking to the door, and glanced over to Jeremy. They'd made eye contact. There were a few more times Jeremy didn't remember.

 

He also had a fever dream. 

 

He remembered going to a pool and having Dracula standing there about to dive in. Then he was standing in the pool with no water in it, watching his friends play in water through a pane of glass. It was fever dream, it didn't make sense. 

 

And then he woke up, and was surprised to see how dark it was. His head felt a bit more clear as he squinted to adjust his eyes to the darkness.

 

He tried to remember his dream to tell his friends for a laugh until he heard muffled voices coming from the hall.

 

"...Chemo isn't helping him anymore. It seems to be making him worse," a voice said. "We'll have to stop immediately."

 

No one said anything for the longest of times it seemed until a shaky voice said, "I'm guessing he'll die."

 

The was a pause. "Yes," The voice said gravely.

 

"How long?"

 

"We estimate two weeks."

 

There was a shaky exhale.

 

"We have grief counseling sessions for free here. All you have to do is sign up."

 

Nothing else was said as Jeremy heard footsteps echoing throughout the hall. He heard footsteps make their way to the room and Jeremy shut his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. He heard the door close and felt a dip in the bed. He felt a shaky hand start to gently stroke his cheek as the person tried to muffle their sobs.

 

Jeremy went to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

"Mr. Heere, may we talk?"

 

Jeremy's father looked up from his newspaper. "What is it, Michael?" he asked.

 

Michael took a deep breath. "We need to talk."

 

Jeremy started fiddling with his sheets. He knew what this would be about.

 

"Is everything okay?"

 

Michael shrugged. "Yeah. Jeremy and I just wanted to tell you something. It just felt right."

 

Mr. Heere frowned, "Well, okay then, go on."

 

Michael cleared his throat.

 

Jeremy panicked. He shot a desperate look to Michael.

 

Michael's eyes were soft. "I'll help."

 

Jeremy averted his eyes and stared down at his hands.

 

"Remember that one time last year when Michael never came over for about two months?" He looked to see his father. He saw his dad and knew he was in deep thought.

 

"Yeah," his dad eventually answered.

 

"Well... there was a reason for that."

 

"Huh? What're you... did you have a fight?"

 

Jeremy bit his lip. "Kinda," Michael answered.

 

"Well, what happened?" Mr. Heere asked.

 

Jeremy looked to Michael like he did for all his problems, and Michael mouthed "It'll be fine" at him and dipped his head towards Mr. Heere. Jeremy glanced between him and Michael like they were a rock and a hard place.

 

Jeremy bit his cheek and scratched at his arm. "There's a thing called a SQUIP," Jeremy said in a voice so quiet and perfectly measured, it reminded him of how smoothly he spoke when he had the SQUIP. He didn't stutter or mumble or anything. His voice rang out loud and clear and sent chills down his spine. Michael stiffened as well as his father. Jeremy couldn't blame them, for he as well was alarmed by the sudden and unexpected coldness in his voice that had made way.

 

"It’s from Japan. It’s a gray, oblong pill, with quantum nanotechnology CPU. It implants itself into your brain, and then, it tells you what to do."

 

The room was so silent and tense a knife could cut through it. 

 

"I... I don't think I understand," his father said.

 

So Jeremy explained all of fall (with the help of Michael of course) all while Jeremy kept his cold demeanor and answering every question with detail as if the SQUIP had fed him his lines. He'd described guy at Payless (who reminded him eerily like his father now that he thought back to it) and how there was a setting to have a sexy anime female for a SQUIP option. He talked about Brooke and his dismissal to ride with her due to his loyalty to ride with Michael. He talked about the Upgrade without struggle, with Michael pitching in some minor details. He explained the mechanism of Optic Nerve Blocking, (at this point Mr. Heere had already gone white) and even how Jake dressed as Prince while Christine dressed up as a medieval princess.

 

But when it got to Halloween, he faltered.

 

"And I..." Jeremy paused a took a shaky breath. He didn't want to continue.

 

Michael didn't even know this next part.

 

Jeremy hadn't told anyone. Not even Chloe knew. She was too drunk to remember what happened so he never told her.

 

"I was getting a drink and Chloe walked up to me. She said Brooke was waiting for me upstairs with a surprise. I asked what kind of surprise, and then she said, 'the kind where you don't ask questions.'"

 

Jeremy almost broke at this point. He had to take a few seconds to calm himself.

 

Michael seemed confused. He hadn't been informed of this. Jeremy never told him about this.

 

"So she took me upstairs. I was expecting Brooke. But then... but then she pushed me against the wall and took off my shirt. S-she took my hand and brought me to the bed. I t-tried to get up but the S-SQUIP wouldn't let me. I was stuck while Chloe t-touched me. Then Jake had heard we'd gone up to his parent's room and he bursted through the window and then... I panicked. I ran out of the room and into the bathroom."

 

Jeremy could hear Michael gasp. Jeremy had only told Michael that he just went straight into the bathroom.

 

Jeremy continued.

 

"And the SQUIP was off since I'd drank alcohol, and I ran into the bathroom," Jeremy said with a tremor in his voice he just couldn't get rid of. He explained the whole bathroom incident and Michael explained his panic attack. Jeremy ducked his head in shame. He felt two hands place themselves on Jeremy's back.

 

"It's okay, Private," Mr. Heere said.

 

"I've forgiven you a long time ago," Michael said simply. "Besides that was the past. And it was just one word. It really wasn't that big of a deal. I guess in just the spur of the moment, it was too much."

 

Jeremy looked up to look Michael in the eye. "But I still feel bad."

 

Michael sighed. "I know. But you don't have to. I don't want you to feel bad."

 

Jeremy smiled faintly. "Thanks, I guess."

 

He took a deep breath and continued. He adopted that smooth, unexpressive voice full of venom again as he explained Christine's rejection.

 

He explained how he spiked the beaker with SQUIPS. He explained how he gave Jenna a SQUIP. He explained how it all went downhill from there.

 

Michael had to step in to to explain the play, as it all went fuzzy when Jeremy tried to remember that particular part of the story.

 

Once they were done, Jeremy felt as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders. Of course he didn't feel so great when his father advanced on him and told him not to do nano drugs.

 

But Jeremy had to admit, his father had been the perfect audience. He paled at all the right parts, gasped, and laughed. 

 

He just felt like he'd sleep better at night now that this burden was lifted from him. He felt relief course through him.

 

Jeremy mouthed "Thank you" to Michael, and was returned with a thumbs up from his friend.

 

Life was good.

 

After Michael had to go home, Mr. Heere cleared his throat. "Jeremy? We... we need to talk."

 

Jeremy looked over to his dad. "Mhm?"

 

His dad bit his lip. "The chemo isn't working."

 

Jeremy furrowed his brow. He felt as if he'd heard this before. Then it clicked.

 

"Oh, I know. I have two weeks left, right?"

 

"How..." his dad stammered, "how do you know this?"

 

"I heard you and the doctor talking in the hallway Monday."

 

His dad nodded, "And?"

 

Jeremy scrunched up his eyebrows. He was confused. "...And what?"

 

"And how do you feel about it?"

 

Jeremy frowned as he thought. 

 

"I... I don't know," he admitted. Jeremy shrugged. "I guess I knew it was gonna happen. Something in my gut," he said quietly.

 

Jeremy looked away. "I guess this means I'm gonna die, right?"

 

No response. A deep breath. "Are you scared?"

 

Jeremy didn't say anything at first. "A little," he mumbled.

 

Mr. Heere placed his hand over his son's. "I'll miss you. So, so, so much."

 

Jeremy looked back to his dad. His father was crying, a rarity, yet Jeremy couldn't feel surprised.

 

"I love you, y'know? You're my only son and child, and I love you to bits. You're my whole world, Jeremy."

 

A solitary tear trickled down Jeremy's cheek. 

 

"I love you too, dad."

 

* * *

 

Michael was over again. The two were on their phones, both bored but content with the presence of the other in the room. Jeremy was laid up in his hospital bed while Michael was sitting in the couch in the hospital room near the window on the opposite side of the room.

 

All of the sudden, music started coming from across the room in Michael's direction. Jeremy looked over to see what Michael was doing, and saw Michael was walking over to him.

 

Wait. This gesture seemed familiar...

 

"You sappy geek," Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. 

 

Michael didn't say anything, much like before, only shaking his head. Michael reached his side, and offered him a hand, smiling. "May I have this dance?"

  
  
Jeremy groaned, "Michael, this is stupid!"

 

Michael raised his eyebrows. "Will I have this dance or not?"

 

Jeremy sighed. A smile began to blossom though.

 

  
"You may."

  
  
And Jeremy grabbed Michael's hand, getting out of bed. 

 

Michael led them to the center of the room, the hospital light shining onto the two boys.

 

The two both listened as Gerard's melodic voice drifted through the speakers of Michael's phone again, singing along to Disenchanted.

 

 _"Well I was there on the day_  
_They sold the cause for the queen,_  
_And when the lights all went out_  
_We watched our lives on the screen_  
_I hate the ending myself,_  
_But it started with an alright scene_

  
  
_"It was the roar of the crowd_  
_That gave me heartache to sing_  
_It was a lie when they smiled_  
_And said, you won't feel a thing_  
_And as we ran from the cops_  
_We laughed so hard it would sting,"_

Jeremy and Michael both began to sing along, both looking into the other's eyes lovingly as they did so.

 

 _"If I'm so wrong (so wrong, so wrong)_  
_How can you listen all night long? (night long, night long)_  
_Now will it matter after I'm gone?_  
_Because you never learn a goddamn thing,_

  
_"You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya,"_

 

Jeremy could feel Michael's warm breath spread across his cheek.

 

 _"I spent my high school career_  
_Spit on and shoved to agree_  
_So I could watch all my heroes_  
_Sell a car on TV_  
_Bring out the old guillotine_  
_We'll show 'em what we all mean,_

  
_"If I'm so wrong (so wrong, so wrong)_  
_How can you listen all night long? (night long, night long)_  
_Now will it matter long after I'm gone?_  
_Because you never learn a goddamn thing,"_

Jeremy noticed Michael had gone silent. He could feel Michael's heart beat rapidly against his chest.

  
_"You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya,_

  
_"So go, go away, just go, run away_  
_But where did you run to, and where did you hide?_  
_Go find another way, price you pay,"_

 

Michael was staring at Jeremy. He was unable to look away once they made eye contact. They were getting closer.

 

 _"You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya,"_

  
_"You're just a sad song with nothing to say_  
_About a life long wait for a hospital stay_  
_And if you think that I'm wrong,_  
_This never meant nothing to ya,"_

Jeremy closed his eyes.

 

" _At all, at all, at all, at all_ ,"

 

Their lips touched.

 

Jeremy responded immediately, surprising himself. Michael's mouth was so warm, the caress of his lips softer than he could have imagined. He tasted tentatively with his tongue, and Jeremy opened his mouth with a soft moan. There was a hunger to it, from both sides of the kiss. 

 

Suddenly, Michael pushed away as if he'd been burned. He started pacing back and forth with his hands wrapped over his chest.

 

"I'm sorry, Jeremy," he said in a strangled voice. "I shouldn't have done that."

 

"No, no, it's fine," Jeremy said in alarm. He was afraid of seeming too eager or disappointed. In fact, he wasn't quite sure how to react, to the kiss or to Michael's sudden show of regret.

 

"That wasn't right," Michael said.

 

"Michael-" Jeremy tried to say but Michael interrupted. 

 

"I'm so sorry, Jeremy, I didn't mean to-"

 

Jeremy had enough.

 

He grabbed Michael by the front of his hoodie and leaned in kissed him, Jeremy kissing Michael passionately and aggressively.

 

The kiss wasn't perfect by anyone's standards. Michael's glasses got in the way, but Jeremy couldn't find it in himself to care. The kiss was theirs, and Jeremy thought that was pretty perfect to him.

 

Eventually, they both pulled away for air, both panting with parted lips.

 

"Wow," Michael gasped breathlessly.

 

Jeremy pecked Michael's cheek.

 

"Yeah. Wow," He breathed.

 

"How long?" Michael asked.

 

Jeremy bit his lip. "I've had the feeling since the middle of freshmen year, but I only just figured figured out what it meant in June."

 

Michael groaned. "We should've told each other," he said miserably. "All this gay pining for nothing."

 

"Wait, what about you?" Jeremy asked.

 

"End of eighth grade. It's how I knew I was gay," Michael said with a grin.

 

Jeremy gaped at his friend. "I thought you knew from liking Toby Bryant!" Jeremy exclaimed, and indignant squeak escaping him.

 

Michael grinned. "Nope. Because of you!"

 

Jeremy smiled and sighed. "At least we know now, huh?"

 

Michael bit his lip. "I still wish this had happened sooner..."

 

Jeremy remembered his date of death.

 

"Yeah. Me too," Jeremy said in a small voice.

 

Jeremy leaned against Michael, resting his head against his chest. He could hear Michael's heartbeat and sighed. He grabbed Michael's arm and felt Michael's gay pride patch that was sewn onto his hoodie, and rubbed his finger over the coarse fabric.

 

Michael embraced Jeremy. "So, what does this make us?" Michael asked.

 

"What?"

 

"Well, like, are we supposed to go on a date or be boyfriends...?"

 

Jeremy thought for a minute.

 

"I guess being boyfriends works," Jeremy decided.

 

"Why?"

 

Jeremy snorted. He opened his eyes and looked up to Michael. "Because we've been hanging out at each other's house since forever. Dates are when you're seeing how much you like that someone."

 

Michael raised his eyebrows. "How do you know so much about dating?"

 

"The SQUIP. Me and Brooke went on a few dates," Jeremy said, shrugging a bit.

 

Michael smiled. He leaned down and pecked Jeremy on his nose. Jeremy smiled back and went to his previous position on Michael's chest.

 

"Michael?" Jeremy murmured.

 

"Mhm?"

 

"Have you ever _been_ on a date?"

 

Michael chuckled. "Remember Josh Forn?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"And remember that one Friday in middle school when I couldn't come over to your house for video games?"

 

"Mhm?"

 

"Well I was going on a date with Josh."

 

"What!" Jeremy exclaimed. Jeremy looked back to Michael. "And you never told me?"

 

Michael rolled his eyes. "He was a douche. He wasn't worth mentioning."

 

Jeremy frowned. "Well I would've still liked to know. I could've told him off at school."

 

Michael stared at Jeremy, unblinkingly. Then, when he saw Jeremy was dead serious, he cracked up.

 

"You?" Michael asked incredulously.

 

"Well, yeah! I was tough! I could've taken him!"

 

Michael laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd heard in his whole life.

 

"Jeremy, you were 5'4 and weighed like seventy pounds in seventh grade. I don't think so," Michael pointed out.

 

"So? I could've... I could've challenged him to a duel like Hamilton and Burr did!"

 

Michael shook his head. "You are unbelievably stupid," Michael teased.

 

"Yeah... but now I'm your unbelievably stupid boyfriend."

 

Michael smiled. "And I couldn't be any happier."

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy was released from the hospital three days later, the reason being he needed to spend as much time with family and friends as possible. Jeremy didn't question why, because he knew.

 

He wasn't surviving this.

 

Jeremy was picked up by Michael from his house one day to come to Michael's house and spend the night.

 

Michael talked the whole way there about a new Netflix show called Stranger Things that just released while Jeremy rested his head against the cold window of Michael's car, listening to Michael babble about Mike and Will's apparent love story unfold. Jeremy opened his eyes as the vehicle came to a stop.

 

"Time to get out, sleeping beauty," Michael said softly as he began to help Jeremy unbuckle his seatbelt and open the door. Jeremy stumbled out of the car.

 

Michael offered Jeremy his hand and helped his tired boyfriend get out of the car.

 

Jeremy groaned softly, and Michael kissed his temple.

 

"Only a bit further, Miah, then you can sleep."

 

Jeremy hummed in response. He wet his chapped lips with his tongue. "Water," he croaked. 

 

"Only a bit further," Michael repeated kindly.

 

When they got to the house, Jeremy was ready to collapse. He'd gotten surprisingly weaker since yesterday, and had been sleeping all day without actually fueling his energy. Jeremy supposed this was what cancer did.

 

Michael half carried him to the couch and set him down. Michael got a blanket for Jeremy, just so he could be comfortable.

 

Michael went into the kitchen to get a glass of water for him, and Jeremy fell asleep.

 

Jeremy didn't know how long he was asleep, but he woke up to someone picking him up.

 

Jeremy cracked his eyes open and saw Michael carrying him. Jeremy smiled faintly and closed his eyes again, relaxing against his boyfriend's chest.

 

He was laid in bed and felt a dip in the mattress next to him. The comforter was laid over the two boys.

 

He felt Michael's arms wrap themselves over Jeremy, and Jeremy rolled over, despite him aching all over. He groggily opened his eyes.

 

"Can you stay until I fall asleep?" Jeremy mumbled.

 

"Always," Michael responded lovingly.

 

Jeremy kissed Michael and burrowed into Michael's neck, kissing him there as well.

 

"Miah," Michael giggled, "that tickles."

 

Jeremy smiled into Michael's neck. He gave his boyfriend one last kiss on the neck before burying his face into Michael's chest.

 

"Y'know I'm dying, right?"

 

Michael didn't respond.

 

Jeremy sighed. "I love you, Micah," Jeremy mumbled sleepily, his words muffled by Michael's hoodie.

 

Jeremy felt Michael caress his cheek. "I love you too," Michael whispered softly before Jeremy fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

_End of May or early June, Jeremy was walking to the park, hand in hand with his father, while Jeremy hugged a worn stuffed lion (dubbed Philip the Lion by a young Jeremy) to his chest, and skipping along the pavement, excited to go play at the park. He just loved swinging on the swings and using the monkey bars but he liked swinging the most._

 

_When the park's entry was in view, Jeremy began to impatiently tug at his father, wanting to get there faster._

 

_"Woah! Slow down, Private," his dad teased._

 

_"Daddy!" Jeremy whined. "Can we speed up?"_

 

_Mr. Heere smirked. "Excited for those swings?" he asked._

 

_Jeremy nodded eagerly. Mr. Heere sighed. "Well... your mother would kill me for this... just look both ways for cars and you can go ahead, okay?"_

 

_Jeremy's eyes lit up. "Really!" Jeremy asked. He got a nod in response. Jeremy grinned and took off towards the park, looking both way for cars of course, and ran straight for the swings only to stop dead in his tracks. There, a tan little boy who looked four (Jeremy's age) with huge glasses that looked too big for his face, was being pushed by two women on the swings! Jeremy tripped over his feet, tumbled to the ground, and scraped his knee._

 

_The boy looked over to where Jeremy was and Jeremy ducked behind a slide._

 

_Jeremy breathed heavily and hugged Philip to his chest tighter._

 

 _Why was a boy on_ his _swing? Well, Jeremy corrected himself, it wasn't his swing since it didn't have his name on it, but still! He liked that swing, and he was the only one that swung on it. Well, besides that kid._

 

_Jeremy huffed and looked around for his dad. Of all the days for someone to swing on his favorite swing, today really was the worst one. Why did he have to run ahead?_

 

_Finally, Jeremy found his dad wandering around the playground._

 

_He picked up Philip and ran over to him, admiring his light up shoes as he ran._

 

_"Daddy!" Jeremy called, bounding towards his dad._

 

_"Jeremy!" his dad exclaimed, relieved. "Where were you!"_

 

_Jeremy shook off the question. "A boy's on the swing!" Jeremy pointed towards the swings where the boy was still swinging. The boy looked over and Jeremy ducked, squeaking a little._

 

_Mr. Heere looked, squinting a bit. "Oh, yeah."_

 

_Jeremy frowned and scrunched his eyebrows together. "Well, what should I do?"_

 

_Mr. Heere observed his son. "Well, for starters, we need to clean up your knee right there, champ."_

 

_Jeremy looked down to see his knee, but lost balance and almost toppled over, but caught himself._

 

_Mr. Heere handed his son a baby wipe and Jeremy cleaned his knee up. His dad found a band aid, a Pokémon one obviously, and pressed it against his knee. "There you go, Private."_

 

_"But daaaaad," Jeremy whined, "what do I do about that kid over there?"_

 

_"Why don't you go over there and introduce yourself, huh? You could make a new friend," His dad said._

 

_Jeremy thought about that suggestion for a minute. That would be fun. Funner than swinging, he thought._

 

_"Okay! Thanks dad!"_

 

_His dad gave him a thumbs up._

 

_Jeremy nervously gathered up all his courage like the cowardly lion and grabbed Philip and ran towards the swinging boy. The boy had already stopped swinging, so he jumped off the swing and Jeremy and the boy met halfway._

 

_"Hello! I'm Michael!" The tan boy said._

 

_Jeremy looked to his shoes. He all of a sudden felt very unlike the cowardly lion. "Hi... I'm Jeremy."_

 

_"Nice to meet you Germy!" Michael said._

 

_"No, not 'germy'. Jeremy. Like Jer-ra-me," Jeremy corrected._

 

_Michael laughed. "Okay, nice to meet you Jer-ra-me."_

 

_Jeremy blushed and looked down. Michael was wearing superhero shoes, with a Batman logo on them. "I like your shoes," Jeremy said. "Batman's m' favorite!"_

 

_Michael's eyes lit up. "You like DC?" Jeremy nodded and Michael grinned. "My favorite's Wonder Woman. She's cool!"_

_Jeremy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she is pretty awesome."_

 

_"I like your band aid. Pikachu!"_

 

_Jeremy blushed again. "Th-thanks! You're cool."_

 

_Michael's eyebrows raised. "Nobody's ever said that to me b'fore."_

 

_Jeremy scrunched up his face. "Why not?"_

 

_Michael shrugged. "Well I think you're cool," Jeremy declared._

 

_"Thank you! You're cool too," Michael said. "Hey! You wanna go play? My moms brought my stuff."_

 

_Jeremy nodded eagerly. "Sure, sounds fun! I have a lion too." Jeremy showed off his lion. "His name's Philip."_

 

_"Cool," Michael said in awe. "Well c'mon, let's go play!"_

 

_"'k, lemme tell my dad first."_

 

_"Okay, I'll come with you!"_

 

_Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand and they ran over to Jeremy's dad together._

 

_Jeremy and Michael made an oath later on that day that they would be best friends 'till they died._

 

_So when Jeremy had to leave the park, Michael's moms and Jeremy's dad exchanged numbers and made plans for Jeremy to come over to Michael's house the next day._

 

_"G'bye Jeremy!"_

 

_"Bye, Michael!"_

 

* * *

 

Michael woke up to unfiltered light streaming through his window and into his eyes. The birds were chirping outside, and he could hear the soft buzz of an engine outside his house.

 

Michael saw Jeremy next to him in their bed. He considered waking him up, but decided to watch him sleep. He looked peaceful, so unlike how he slept in the hospital. It was hard to accept that he could be asleep or dead at any moment. Finally, after a few minutes, Michael decided to shake Jeremy awake, but as soon as he laid his hands on him he pulled away. Jeremy was as cold as ice. Michael felt his heartbeat start to rush.

 

Michael tried to listen for breathing but he heard nothing but his own. Immediately, Michael reached for Jeremy's wrist, desperately searching for a pulse. 

 

Nothing.

 

Michael went to his last option. He leaned down to Jeremy's mouth and blew air into Jeremy's mouth, pumping on his chest after he did. He repeated that process of CPR, but nothing.

 

Michael held Jeremy's body to his chest, a sob of anguish ripping through him.

 

He sobbed and sobbed and sobbed into Jeremy's shoulder, repetitively saying, "Please get up, please wake up, I swear to god get up," but nothing happened.

 

Nothing nothing nothing nothing.

 

Nothing would happen. Nothing could happen. And nothing did happen.

 

Nothing.

 

* * *

 

 

It was a windy day and dark, ominous clouds filled the sky.

 

Back at Jeremy's house, Michael and Christine sat on Jeremy's bed. Nothing but silence filled the room. Mr. Heere was talking on the phone in the kitchen. Most likely with Jeremy's mom.

 

"If I'd just checked on him-"

 

"Ssh," Christine soothed as she rubbed Michael's back. "There's no reason to beat yourself up over something we couldn't help," Christine said as she embraced Michael in a hug.

 

"I should've stayed awake, I knew something wasn't right," Michael said breaking down into tears again. Jeremy's voice kept replaying in his mind.

 

Michael knew something was wrong. He knew Jeremy wasn't okay, and he did nothing.

 

"This is all my fault," Michael sobbed.

 

"Don't say that," Christine choked as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Don't-" she was cut off by her own tears.

 

Michael fell into a deep depression just as fast as he fell in love with Jeremy. Quickly and all at once.

 

The boy with the brightest light behind his eyes was now dust in the wind. The light behind his eyes was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

The funeral was bland, average for something that shouldn't have been average. Jeremy deserved the best funeral, only for the best person. But instead, it was a funeral oddly reminiscent of Michael's grandmother's.

 

Everyone was there, Christine, Rich, Jake, Chloe, Brooke, Jenna, even Mr. Reyes came to pay his respects. A lot of people from school came even though half of them didn't know Jeremy for who he truly was. They just knew his name, and that he hung out with the popular kids so some 'hey-he-must-be-cool-I-should-go' shit was happening in their heads.

 

Some decent people came, though. Some actually knew Jeremy and offered their condolences to the distraught group of friends, sharing funny stories of things Jeremy had done in front of them.

 

The burial was a surreal experience for Michael, though. It was as if it finally sank in, that Jeremy was dead. He almost had a panic attack but he tried to keep it at bay.

 

When everything was done, instead of sitting by Jeremy's grave, saying his last goodbye he never got to say, he took off. He bolted to his car and didn't look back. His moms had drove themselves there and they didn't need him, so he left.

 

He spent the next day in Jeremy's bed. His sheets still smelled like him. Michael felt tears well up in his eyes again when he realized he would soon not get to smell Jeremy's scent again.

 

"How am I supposed to live without you." Michael sniffed as he wiped his tears on his hoodie sleeve. "You were the only thing I had, the only thing I loved," Michael sobbed.

 

"I love you," He cried.

 

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He sobbed. The tears didn't seem to stop as Michael thought about all the things he'd never get to do ever again. "So much!" He choked.

 

He'd never get to kiss Jeremy ever again. Never get to feel his soft skin under his hands. Never get to tell him how much he loved him. He would never see the way his brilliant blue eyes twinkled in the light ever again.

 

What hurt the most is it wouldn't have ended this way if Michael had checked on Jeremy. Michael wouldn't be crying in Jeremy's bed if he had just checked on him. Maybe then he could've saved him.

 

Michael dried his eyes as he rolled out of Jeremy's bed and sat down at his desk. A plain white notebook paper laid on the desk.

 

The same note Michael had been putting off reading.

 

Michael drew in a shaky breath as his eyes scanned across the page.

 

_Dear friends,_

 

_I'm sorry._

 

_I'm sorry I gave up and let in to cancer. It was just. Just so hard._

 

_And I'm sorry._

 

_Especially you, Michael. I'm sorry that it ended this way. You were always there cheering me on, but I failed and lost this fight. I can’t put into words how much I loved and will always love you, Michael. With every passing day I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you._

 

_Everyone must promise me not to cry. I'm seriously not something to cry over. Although, you probably have by now, no more. Don't shed anymore tears for me. I don't deserve your sympathy._

 

_How could you really cry for me anyway? The world never wanted me. I was just another hopeless cause. It was really any day until I died. But please, all of you be strong. I love you all._

 

_The hardest part of this is leaving you,_

 

_xoxo_

_  
J. Heere_

 

To this day Michael still has Jeremy's note.

 

It's all there is to comfort Michael on a rainy day.

 

* * *

 

 

"Mikey, do you want to take Mathew out for dinner? I'm going to finish painting." Michael's husband, Will, asked as he wiped his face, accidentally smearing white paint on his face. Michael smiled.

 

"Sure," He chuckled, grabbing the car keys. "Let's go Matt!" He beamed as Mathew followed him to the car. After Michael strapped Mathew in his car seat, they set off down the road.

 

Michael and Will had just moved into a small town back in New Jersey. After Jeremy's death, Michael moved in with his cousin in New York after college where he met Will. Now, he's back in New Jersey in a small town by the beach.

 

"What are you in the mood for?" Michael asked as he peered at Mathew in the rear view mirror.

 

"McDonalds!" Mathew shouted.

 

"Sounds good," Michael smiled as they continued down the road. As Michael pulled into the drive through, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia.

 

This town seemed very familiar, but Michael didn't ponder on it. Probably just déjà vu. After Michael ordered their food they made their way back home.

 

"Shit," Michael breathed as he took a wrong turn.

 

"Daddy, look!" Mathew gasped as Michael tried to find his way back to the main road. "A park!" He exclaimed.

 

"That's nice, we'll have to check that out one day," Michael said.

 

"Can we go now? Look, there's tables!" Mathew pointed. Michael sighed. He hated saying no to Mathew. Sure, why not?

 

Michael parked his car at the entrance and unbuckled Mathew. Michael handed him his happy meal as he raced to the tables.

 

Michael, however, took his time and explored the park a bit more. In the midst of the grassy terrain were groups of picnic tables and benches. A few yards behind the tables and benches, the grass dissipated into sand and lead to the beach. Off to the side was a play area.

 

Intrigued, Michael walked over as Mathew was sat at the tables still in Michael's view. Michael explored around the play area. This all seemed so damn familiar, but Michael just passed it off as a bad case of déjà vu.

 

Michael lurked around the area some more, until he stopped dead in his tracks. This wasn't just déjà vu.

 

Michael stared at a swingset as the memories flooded back in. Michael would never in his life forget this swingset. Even after twenty three years.

 

Michael couldn't believe he forgot so much over the years. This was the same damn town he met Jeremy.

 

Michael felt tears build up in his eyes, but he made a promise.

 

_Everyone must promise me not to cry._

 

Michael blinked back the tears.

 

"I promised you," Michael said through gritted teeth.

 

"Daddy, what's that?" Mathew asked, suddenly appearing behind Michael.

 

"Where I met the love of my life," Michael stated as he got down on his knees, pulling out his pocket knife and started carving their initials and a heart around them into the light blue swing pole.

 

Michael smiled to himself as he remembered all the memories they shared.

 

_"Hello! I'm Michael!"_

 

_"Hi... I'm Jeremy."_

_"Nice to meet you Germy!"_

 

_"No, not 'germy'. Jeremy. Like Jer-ra-me."_

 

_"Okay, nice to meet you Jer-ra-me."_

 

_Jeremy blushed and looked down. Michael was wearing superhero shoes, with a Batman logo on them. "I like your shoes," Jeremy said. "Batman's m' favorite!"_

_Michael's eyes lit up. "You like DC?" Jeremy nodded and Michael grinned. "My favorite's Wonder Woman. She's cool!"_

_Jeremy nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she is pretty awesome."_

_"I like your band aid. Pikachu!"_

_Jeremy blushed again. "Th-thanks! You're cool."_

_Michael's eyebrows raised. "Nobody's ever said that to me b'fore."_

_Jeremy scrunched up his face. "Why not?"_

_Michael shrugged. "Well I think you're cool," Jeremy declared._

_"Thank you! You're cool too," Michael said. "Hey! You wanna go play? My moms brought my stuff."_

_Jeremy nodded eagerly. "Sure, sounds fun! I have a lion too." Jeremy showed off his lion. "His name's Philip."_

_"Cool," Michael said in awe. "Well c'mon, let's go play!"_

_"'kay, lemme tell my dad first."_

_"Okay, I'll come with you!"_

_Michael grabbed Jeremy's hand and they ran over to Jeremy's dad together._

_Jeremy and Michael made an oath later on that day that they would be best friends 'till they died._

_So when Jeremy had to leave the park, Michael's moms and Jeremy's dad exchanged numbers and made plans for Jeremy to come over to Michael's house the next day._

_"G'bye Jeremy!"_

_"Bye, Michael!"_

 

Michael smiled sadly as he smelled the sea salt in the breeze.

 

As Michael finished carving the heart around their initials, he pocketed his knife back in his pocket of his jacket along with a piece of paper that Michael always had with him.

 

The once pristine, white note, now slightly crumpled and a faded eggshell color. This note and photographs were the only physical things Michael had left of Jeremy.

 

_The hardest part of this is leaving you,_

 

_xoxo_

_  
J. Heere_

 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry
> 
> and hey. you're a real trooper if you actually read all this shit which is exactly 23,346 words long and 80.2 pages. wow. 
> 
> tumblr: is-trash-hi
> 
> instagram: is_trash_hi
> 
> and here is the link as promised! [xxx](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=wc2s9skF_58)


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